


And I'll Dance At Your Funeral If You Dance At Mine

by LeeAtwater



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gaslighting, Hate Sex, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 54,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeAtwater/pseuds/LeeAtwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Far From Any Road. The Courier and her friends have made it to the NCR. They've got weapons. They've got an army. And there's nothing like revenge for getting back at people. If only they were able to figure out who the enemy really was. And "everyone" doesn't count.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: And Hell Followed With Her

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a sequel to "Far From Any Road", which can be read on this site or fanfiction.net. As in the previous story, dark themes, noncon, and incredible amounts of graphic violence await. I mean, it's not "Kill Bill" level, but someone uses a headless body as a human shield. So if you're not cool with that, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Or playing Fallout.

**Then**

Six and her friends rode up on the ranger border station looking less like the conquering heroes they wished they had been and more like the bedraggled refugees they actually were. The rangers stared at them like they were some sort of alien creatures. It probably didn't help that they were covered in blood, and it definitely didn't improve the situation when Veronica assured the rangers that it wasn't _their_ blood, mostly. Six was quickly ushered in to see the commanding officer while the others sat in the caravan under heavy guard. _Some welcome._

After some discussion on their way in, they'd decided to tell a slightly edited version of the actual story. The NCR officer sat in silence, occasionally scratching on his notepad and fiddling with his tape recorder, while she described their initial escape from Vegas and how they were hunted down afterward while trying to make it to the border. She told them about being dragged in to see Caesar and her subsequent fight with Vulpes in the arena. Six glossed over the fine details of her captivity, assuming that they wanted to hear about it as much as she wanted to tell them about it, although she did show the officer the ragged scars that covered her back, rolling her eyes slightly at his gasp of shock. Really, what did they think happened to Legion slaves?

Six tried not to cry when talking about Boone and how he'd died, how she'd attacked the legionaries and been dragged away for punishment. The commander listened intently to the part about Boone and mentioned that he'd heard of the sniper's exploits in the First Recon. Then it was time for the big lie. The NCR wasn't very good at forgiveness – hell, they were still hunting down Enclave remnants years after the war – and the idea that a Legion spy would switch sides for a girl was probably not something they were going to believe. The group had concluded that Marcus's true identity had to remain their little secret, lest he end up in front of a firing squad. So now Marcus was just Cass's boyfriend from the Hub, and their rescue party had taken some legionary armor off a veteran they'd killed and talked their way past some very dense gate guards. The shootout and their escape on the caravan were the absolute truth. Six let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding when the commander seemed to buy it.

A few more officers came in and asked her questions, and she gave all the responses she could. She told them everything she knew about Caesar, Lucius and Vulpes, drew them a quick sketch of their operations in the city, and gave them all that Marcus had written down about Caesar's extensive intelligence network in the NCR. They made her repeat that several times, especially the names, and Six couldn't hold back a smirk. A lot of the Frumentarii would be dead or on the run tonight. Good.

"Is that it?" the commander asked her.

"That's all I can remember," she said. "I'll let you know if anything else comes to mind. As I'm sure you understand, it's been an eventful few days, and we're all exhausted. I'd like to request that a doctor see my friends, and that we have a place to stay for the night so we can rest. We'll be out of your hair in the morning."

"You can stay as long as you like, Courier. But what do you want? What's the endgame here?"

"Pardon?"

"As much as your reputation for helpfulness precedes you, I doubt that you came to this station and gave us more information on the Legion than we've gotten in _years_ purely out of the goodness of your heart. We signed treaties with you and the independent Vegas after the second battle of Hoover Dam, so you can't be looking for forgiveness for any imagined crimes against us. Now, what can the NCR do for you?"

She smiled grimly. "I want _revenge,_ Commander. I want to see the Legion destroyed and scattered to the wind. I want them all dead. And I don't care if we have to ally with the Devil himself to get it done."

The commander grinned at her. "Well, then, our aims are exactly the same, Courier."

Six left the building with a bounce in her step. She'd requested an unconditional pardon for her and her friends for any and all crimes against the NCR in their past, despite the commander's insistence that they weren't in trouble; then again, he didn't know about Marcus's true history. He'd seemed receptive to her idea about getting Veronica to talk to the Brotherhood of Steel, and Arcade to speak the Followers. They needed all the help they could get. Another fight at the Dam was imminent, he told her, and the NCR was unlikely to win this one; the Legion's numbers were too great and since they were surrounded, the NCR had been unable to get in any additional troops or supplies. They were essentially under siege, and while they would go down fighting, it was inevitable that they were going down. _Fucking Vulpes and his fucking brilliant idea about using Stimpaks and healing chems. If the Legion's death rate hadn't dropped so dramatically, they wouldn't stand a chance._ After that, there was nothing stopping the Legion from heading west, said the commander, and he'd be damned if he'd end his career dying on a cross in his own country.

In the meantime, he suggested that they meet up with the group of Vegas refugees that had settled in the Hub, since she still had a lot of pull with them, and try to determine who was willing to fight. He would radio ahead to Shady Sands and discuss her ideas with the military leadership, who would bring it up to President Kimball. They could stay in the station's guest rooms until they healed up enough to continue on, and of course he would get a doctor to tend to their wounds. By the way, while you're here, Courier, we have something of a Fiend problem to the northwest, would you mind helping out once you're rested? Six smiled at that. She had almost missed having people ask for her help on dangerous missions with no appreciable benefit for herself. It was nice to be needed.

She walked to the caravan, where the remainder of her party waited for news. The commander had requested to speak to Arcade, probably about whatever medical issues he'd treated Caesar for in the first place, which he'd refused to tell her about. But when Arcade got off the cart, it became apparent that something was very wrong. He was pale and sweaty, and stumbled to his hands and knees on the ground when he tried to walk. When Veronica put her arm around him to try to help him up, he yelped in pain and wrenched away from her. Six felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Arcade," Veronica said gently. "What's wrong?"

He murmured something about Med-X and looked away. Her feeling of dread growing, she pulled at his shirt while he tried to bat away her hands. His skin was hot to the touch, and when she finally got him to remove his top, she was unsurprised to find a mass of red welts across his back in horizontal stripes. _Whip marks. Infected, too._

"How long have you been hiding this?" Cass demanded.

"About a week. Turns out people did see how things ended with Boone, and they … weren't happy," he said quietly. "I tried to keep it as clean as possible, but I left all of my supplies behind in Vegas. I didn't want to worry you guys. There's too much to deal with as it is."

Veronica and Cass ran to the station to get help in bringing Arcade in while Six and Marcus eased him to the ground. "Who was it? How many?" Six whispered.

"Twenty from Lucius and twenty from Vulpes," he said. She and Marcus both cringed. She'd felt half dead after twenty-one lashes, and she'd had Arcade to clean and bandage her right after. Six mentally added another bullet point to her Reasons for Revenge list.

"You told us you'd gotten off easy," Marcus said.

"Compared to her, I did."

"There's something you're not saying," Six said, looking in his feverish eyes. "What else is hurt?"

He muttered something softly. When she asked him to repeat himself, she could just make out the words, laced with shame. "Made me … watch. Said it was tradition."

It took Six a moment to comprehend what he was saying, and then she reeled backwards, horrified. The deadbolted room, the drugs, the _fucking blindfold._ Arcade had been there, probably tied and gagged, unable to do anything. She remembered Vulpes's words from when they'd first met in Nipton, when he was just some asshole in a skirt on a power trip and not her personal nightmare. "I told them that when legionaries are disloyal, some are punished, the others made to watch."

When Boone had died, she'd felt rage, but also guilt, shame, and grief. But now every inch of her vibrated with fury. She'd never hated anyone more than she hated them in this moment.

Arcade looked at her weakly. "Don't tell Cass and Vero."

"I won't, I promise." She glanced at Marcus, who may not have known the full details, but definitely got the gist of the situation. Marcus quickly promised too.

Cass and Veronica returned with a handful of rangers, who helped pick Arcade up and bring him to the clinic. Veronica accompanied them inside, holding his hand tightly, and Cass told Marcus and Six that she might as well use the opportunity to get her leg injuries from their escape looked at. This left Marcus and Six, uncomfortably avoiding each other's gaze. Six suddenly felt a new surge of anger. Lucius and Vulpes may not have been there for her to attack, but Marcus had been _one of them._

"What, you don't like being reminded of what your buddies like to do for fun?" she snapped. "How many times did _you_ participate in their shenanigans?"

"They're no friends of mine. I never raped. I never tortured. I never crucified anyone," he said gently. "I collected information, and when I had to kill someone, I did it quickly and cleanly. I didn't _enjoy_ it."

"But you never tried to stop them, did you?"

"Do you want to know what happened when my tribe was pacified?" he asked, anger in his tone. "My parents were shot in front of us. My older brothers were crucified when they tried to resist. My sister was dragged off to be a slave. She was _twelve._ So don't try to make it out like I didn't know what the Legion was capable of."

"You joined them! After all that!"

"I was a _child,"_ Marcus said. "I'd just watched my family die, and I didn't want to die myself. And I wanted justice. You of all people can understand that. I couldn't get it unless I was alive to mete it out. And then things just kind of … happened. It turned into a job, one I was good at. Until I met Cass."

She thought for a moment. "Who was responsible for your tribe? The Malpais Legate?" God, she hoped not. A revenge crusade to Utah would take months, and she didn't fancy fighting her way through the tribes she had once allied with just to kill a reformed and confused Joshua.

"Aurelius of Phoenix."

"Oh," she said. "We killed him, you know. With radioactive waste. It was very satisfying."

"I'm aware," he said, rolling his eyes. "Spy, remember? Why do you think I came all the way to Vegas on a suicide mission to save you?" She raised her eyebrows. "I love Cass, but there's not a woman in the world who's worth the price that's probably on my head now. I _owed_ you for killing him."

"And now that that debt has been repaid in spades, what are you going to do? Can we trust you?"

"I'm going to help you, as long as you want my help," he said. "If I was planning to betray you, wouldn't I have done it before killing a bunch of legionaries in Vegas? I could have just left Cass and Veronica there, if that was my aim. I would have been rewarded handsomely. But I helped you escape, and I'm sure that Vulpes wants me skinned for it. You know what sort of person he is. Would I risk angering him for some sort of … pointless escapade, if I didn't truly love Cass? If I hadn't changed? Is that enough proof of my loyalty?"

She looked in his eyes, and saw nothing there but honesty. "I'm sorry. It's been a hell of a time. I find it difficult to trust people. Especially former legionaries."

"It's understandable," he said, a slight smile on his face. "Most of us are pretty awful. If it helps, I promise I'll let you get the first shot at Caesar if we get the chance."

"The NCR can execute him, for all I care, and they'll probably want to. Those other two, though … can we set them on fire and toss them into the Grand Canyon?"

"Turns out that's not nearly as fatal as you'd expect."

"What? You guys know about Joshua being alive?"

"Of course. We sent several assassins to Utah to try to take care of him, but none of them ever came back. Only you did. I wonder if he'd fight on our side? He's got enough reason to hate the Legion."

"I doubt it," she said. "He's learned the value of forgiveness. He's almost a pacifist now."

"Really? That's a shame. Waste of a good killing machine."

That night, after Arcade and Cass were cleaned up and treated for their injuries, Six enjoyed the first time to herself she'd had in months. She took a long, hot bath, and even managed to score a bit of bubble bath from a sympathetic female ranger. The bed was small and there were only thin blankets, but it was worth it to know that she would be finally, blessedly, be able to sleep alone.

Less than an hour later, she slipped into Arcade's room next door, trembling and sobbing. The nightmares had started as soon as she hit the mattress, and she found she couldn't bear to be by herself. From the dark circles under Arcade's eyes, he had been having similar thoughts. He held out his arms to her, and they curled up in bed, holding onto each other like rafts in a storm, murmuring their apologies and promises of revenge. Cold comfort, but comfort enough.


	2. So A Guy Walks Into A Bar

**One Year Later**

Six didn't drink much, but when she did, she thought of Boone.

She was sitting at the bar in their favorite Hub watering hole, Divine's Dive. It was a popular hangout for the troops, with a strict no-weapons, no-fighting policy and heavily armed former NCR bouncers, so it was one of the few places Six could let her hair down. And boy, did she need to let it down. It had been a hell of a week.

A year after they had crossed the NCR border, almost a year since the Legion overran the Dam, and they were _still_ trying to work out the details of an alliance between the NCR, the Brotherhood of Steel, and the Followers. It was like herding cats. The NCR and the Brotherhood were still seething over their war and the Followers made it clear that they didn't trust either of them. They'd made absolutely no progress for eight months. Six had been just about ready to throw up her hands and head north for good with the weird little army they'd pieced together of disaffected Mojave refugees, sympathetic mutants and ghouls from Lily's refuge in the mountains, and NCR civilians tired of all the infighting. But then the Legion broke through at the Mojave Outpost. Suddenly, everyone was _very interested_ in cooperation. Having a knife to your throat can make things urgent like that.

They'd managed to fix the railroad between Quarry Junction and the NCR, enabling them to pour an endless flow of legionaries into the desert from the Mojave. Six's patchwork organization, officially the New Vegas Provisional Force but informally known as the Vegas Avengers, had tried to sabotage the tracks, but it was too late. Luckily, the Brotherhood and the NCR had quickly responded, flanking the bulk of the initial invasion force and funneling them north into Death Valley, then cutting off any way to retreat. Nature took care of those that didn't fall to bullets. But there were more coming, always more, and they had started splitting off into squads and infiltrating the mountains and hills to the north, causing mayhem and then disappearing before retaliation was possible. And of course, the legionaries from the Mojave were only the tip of the iceberg. The NCR had had to retreat from the Arizona border to protect the Boneyard and Hub as the enormous Arizona contingent of the Legion forced them back. They were getting hit from the main army in the south and the smaller groups in the north, and it was only a matter of time before one of the big cities became a battleground. Which is why Six and her friends were in the Hub. She'd be damned if she wasn't going to be in the fight.

Six and Veronica had spent the week negotiating for the militarization of the remaining Enclave vertibirds owned by both sides, a task made much more complicated by the refusal of the Brotherhood to admit that they even had vertibirds. The Followers had 'misplaced' a shipment of Stimpaks meant for the rangers, and Arcade had privately told her that he believed someone in the organization was smuggling supplies to the Legion. And to top it all off, Marcus had brought her pictures that one of their scouts had taken of a little town that was once called Essex, but was now a formidable Legion encampment. The garden of crosses and red banners with the bull emblem had made her feel sick to her stomach, and brought the memories of Boone that were always lurking just below the surface of her conscious mind to the forefront. Thus the need for a Friday night drinking session, alone with her thoughts and the comforting jazz music from the live band Divine's had on the weekends.

She was about halfway through her fourth cocktail and enjoying a pleasant sense of serenity when she noticed someone had walked up behind her. Six sighed. It was probably Nathaniel, a well-meaning and eager NCR lieutenant who she'd attempted to have a brief dalliance with the last time she was drinking. He'd been kind to her, and remarkably understanding when she kicked him out of her apartment naked at two in the morning. The talking and kissing had been easy enough, but when he'd touched her scars she'd panicked, tossed him out, and locked herself in the bathroom. He'd been trying to talk to her ever since, but she'd avoided him out of embarrassment.

"Didn't I see you down in Vegas on a hot and dusty night?" drawled an overly familiar voice.

Cold fury seeped through her veins, and she froze in place.

_Okay. I have a silenced .22 in my ankle holster. I have a combat knife strapped to my thigh. I can't reach any of them quickly. None of my friends are here, and I don't know when they'll come to get me. I'm pretty goddamn drunk. He's probably got more and better weapons, he's behind me, and he's got the element of surprise. The bouncers will kill me if I pull my gun. And if either of us starts anything, we'll both get tossed out into the street, where I will still have almost no weapons, and will still be drunk, and will still have no backup. Deep breaths, don't panic, keep cool, keep disinterested._

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," she hissed between gritted teeth, forcing herself not to turn around. _Well, maybe not that disinterested._

"You don't have a weapon that you can easily access, or you would have done it already," Vulpes said nonchalantly, as if they were chatting about the weather. "And you'll want to know why I'm here."

"I don't _care_ why you're here. If I shout Legion loudly enough -"

"They won't believe you," he said. His voice took on a mocking quality. "What do you think the guards will say? 'Look at the poor Courier. Her experiences have made her so paranoid. Why do those friends of hers let her drink alone when she's obviously traumatized? Maybe that nice young man who's talking to her should walk her home.' And as a gentleman, I'd have to oblige."

"You are fucking unbelievable, do you know that? This is an _NCR bar._ "

"Yes, they had no problem letting in good old …" he paused, lowering his voice, obviously not wanting to let her know his cover. "Whichever ranger it was I killed for his armor and credentials." He was practically whispering now, and no one could hear them over the band.

"As for what I'm doing here, our network has been seriously compromised in this region, as you well know. Between our main operative deciding that he'd rather run off with a drunken whore than serve us, and over _half_ of my spies in the NCR suddenly being discovered in one night last year, _thank you for that,_ by the way, we found ourselves with a shortage of intelligence in a strategic area."

"And I'm supposed to believe that you just happened to be in this bar, tonight?" Her hands were shaking, and she quickly downed the rest of her drink so she could set down the glass.

"I don't expect you to believe anything I have to say. You're not an idiot," he said. He stepped away from behind her and leaned against the bar, casually signaling the bartender. She glanced at him, just for a second. His hair was longer and curled at the tips, and the stolen NCR ranger jacket made him look almost normal. But the eyes were still the same, icy blue and sparkling with malice. He laid down a $20 NCR on the bar. "A vodka and tonic for me, and another of whatever the lady's drinking."

He turned back to her, and she laughed harshly. "Accept a drink from you? That hasn't exactly worked out well for me in the past. Since when do _your people_ drink alcohol?"

"Certain forbidden activities are permitted to maintain cover in situations such as this." He had reverted to the clipped, formal diction that the high-ranking legionaries tended to use when on official business, what Arcade had once snidely called the "I'm Smarter Than Everyone Else" voice. As the bartender slid their glasses towards them, he intercepted hers and took a sip. "There. See? Not poisoned." His tone back to normal, he winced at the taste. "Not that it needs any help. What is this, battery acid?"

"It's an Atomic Pink Lemonade Enclave Iced Tea. Don't make fun of my drink." Banter, verbal sparring, this was something she could handle tonight. The alcohol was helping. She still had no idea how the hell she was going to get out of here, but if she could delay things until whichever of her friends was tasked with dragging her back to their apartment showed up, she'd have a much better shot at winning … whatever game this was. As long as she didn't think about Boone, about Arcade, about any of the things that made her want to flay him alive for daring to even talk to her like they were ordinary people. "Are you just here to irritate me, or is there a reason behind this social call?"

"The NCR is planning to assassinate you and your friends."

She spun in her seat, her cool facade broken, and glared at him. "Bullshit. You're lying."

"I'm not. See for yourself." He pulled a battered folder out of his pack and slid it across the bar. "Make sure not to spill anything on the holotapes."

Well, she had nothing else to do until her friends came to her rescue. She studied the documents in the folder before inserting the holotape into her new Pip-Boy, the one that Cass had scavenged from an abandoned Brotherhood bunker. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw General Oliver and one of the commanders from the Hub base, Major Peterson, casually discussing the best way to have her killed. _What the fucking fuck? After all I did for them?_

"As you can see, your new acquaintances seem to think you'd make a better martyr than an ally," Vulpes said, slowly sipping from his drink. "They're not particularly happy that you want to work with the Brotherhood, and they certainly don't like your ragtag little army. They consider you a threat to governmental stability, for which I can't really fault them. It sounds like they're planning on blaming us for your death, thus rallying support to their cause. What a shining example of democratic ideals. Still wish you would have sided with them in Vegas?"

"You mean, as opposed to siding with your lot? I think I'll still take a pass on that. Slavery wasn't a good fit for me."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'd have to disagree with your last statement. I think you looked lovely at the end of my leash." She balled her fists up, nails digging into the palms of her hands. _He's baiting you. Don't lose your temper, or you'll start a fight and get thrown out to the wolves. Just go to your happy place. The one where you're slamming his face into the concrete repeatedly._ He continued, "At least I never pretended to be on your side and then stabbed you in the back. That's more than you can say about them. Or about some other _friends_ of yours."

 _Well, he's definitely still pissed about Marcus._ As if he could read her thoughts, he snarled, "You can tell that traitor that he has no price on his head, by the way. I don't want anyone else to deprive me the pleasure of personally eviscerating him."

She ignored him, looking through the documents in the folder again. "How do I know these are real?"

"Even I'm not good enough to fake a holotape. Believe it if you want, or don't. Try walking home alone tonight and see where it gets you. Drunk and by yourself? You'll be an easy target."

"Someone's coming to take me home," she said, and instantly regretted it as he smiled. She tried to change the subject back to more pressing concerns. "How high up does this go? Is Kimball in on it?"

"I doubt it. Oliver sounds like he's the one giving the orders. Kimball is weak; he'll agree to anything if he thinks it will stop us. He'd let you ally with sentient deathclaws if he thought it would give him the slightest chance to preserve his precious republic."

Six looked down into her drink. She was just buzzed enough to say what was on her mind. "Why did you give me this? Why the fuck do you care, anyway? You want me dead more than anyone."

Vulpes turned towards her, and she inched back in her seat. "I don't want you dead," he said softly, fixing her with an intense stare, making her feel trapped, suffocated. "I just want you. You're _mine._ And I don't like other people trespassing on my property." He brushed his hand down the back of her neck, over her collarbone to her left shoulder blade, tracing the scarred X that he'd carved into her skin.

Six reached for her ankle holster as a wave of blind, dirty rage washed over her. The bouncers would kill her if she drew her gun, but at that moment, she didn't give a damn. Vulpes grabbed her arm to stop her. "I wouldn't, if I were you. Not unless you're a much better shot than you were _last time."_

 _He had to throw that in her face._ She shook his hand off of her and counted backwards from ten to one, trying to resist the urge to grab her knife and slice his throat open. When that didn't work, she did it again and again, until she felt like she could breathe. "I think you need to go now," she said evenly.

"Hmm. I don't think so. I'm enjoying the music."

" _Seriously?_ " Fuck her life. No way was she leaving first and letting him follow her out, follow her back home to where her friends were asleep and defenseless.

"And I'm interested in seeing who's going to walk in the door to escort you home," Vulpes said, taking another sip of his drink. "Do you think it'll be young Marcus? That would be entertaining, if bloody. We have unfinished business."

"You wouldn't dare," she snapped. "You're outnumbered. The bouncers would drop you in a second."

"Would they really shoot an NCR ranger for killing a Legion spy? I've certainly got enough evidence to prove he was one. I'd be the hero of the day. They might even give me a medal."

"That's it. That's my fucking limit of tolerance for your bullshit. Get out of here now." It was refreshing to be able to say what she felt, knowing she was on her home turf and he couldn't retaliate. Six took another sip of her drink before she heard someone call her name from across the room. She and Vulpes both turned to see Veronica standing in the entryway. _Finally._

Six leapt to her feet, ready to grab Veronica and run like hell, when she saw a rare opportunity for a victory. She turned to Vulpes and smiled coldly. "Thanks for the drink." Then she gasped loudly in shock, threw the remnants of her cocktail at him, and punched him in the face. She heard a crack as he fell off the barstool, stumbling to the ground, blood gushing from his nose. The glare he gave her could have melted flesh. _Totally worth it._

"Out! Get out! Both of you!" The bouncers had appeared to break up their fight. One of them grabbed Six by the collar. She made sure to hold onto the folder of information as they steered her outside, a confused Veronica in tow. "Fine, fine," she said. "He grabbed my ass. Don't I have the right to protect myself from _degenerates_ in this place?" She was proud of her little twist of the knife there. She heard him arguing with more bouncers as they pushed her out the door. She cheered internally. It may not have been much, but she was one up on him for the first time since … ever, really.

As soon as she and Veronica were clear, she grabbed Vero's hand. "We have to run, right now." They'd have thrown him out the back door. She turned and sprinted down an alley, Veronica right behind her.

"Why? What happened in there?" Veronica asked.

"Someone's trying to kill us."

"Someone is always trying to kill us. How is this different?"

"I'll explain later."


	3. Up On The Roof

Half an hour and multiple twisting Hub alleyways later, Veronica demanded that they stop and catch their breath. As they collapsed onto a bench, Six thought about a group of suspicious loiterers that had seemed to be watching them a few blocks back. He was lying, right? She was insane to think she could believe anything in the folder. But the holotape was pretty damned convincing. She decided then and there that she had to know. _Try walking home alone tonight and see where it gets you._

"Vero? I know this night has been completely crazy, and you probably think I'm drunk off my ass, which I kind of still am, but I have a favor to ask." She checked her weaponry, and frowned when she saw that her .22 had fallen out while she was running away. At least she still had her knife, and she was sure she could use it to score a gun if need be.

"I can go back and punch that guy in the face again for you, if that's what you want."

"No. No no no. Stay far away from him. In fact, shoot him if you see him. I need you to pretend we're having an argument, and then walk the other way. As soon as I get out of sight, double back and follow me. I have a nasty feeling that I'm going to get attacked the moment you leave."

"I really hope you're going to explain what the hell is going on at some point," Veronica said.

"I will, I promise. You're armed, right?" Six asked.

"Just a laser pistol."

"Do you have anything extra? I lost my gun while we were running."

"Ah, damn, I don't have anything else. Let me give you mine."

"No, keep it," Six said. "You'll need it if you're backing me up. Kill anyone who attacks or grabs me. Now start screaming at me like I spilled wine on your favorite dress."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Six. I'll see you in a few. Love you. You FUCKING BITCH! I don't ever want to see you again! FUCK YOU, CUNT!"

Veronica pushed Six to the ground harshly, then stomped off down an alleyway. _Remind me never to actually piss her off. That was mildly terrifying._

Six walked back through the dirty, narrow streets, with their makeshift shacks casting everything in shadow, towards where she'd seen the suspicious group, trying her best to look falling-down drunk and dejected. It wasn't too much of a stretch. A blond man in the group, who seemed to be the leader, called out to her. "A moment of your time, miss?"

Warning sirens were blaring in her head as she stumbled up to them. "Can … c'n I help you?" she slurred.

"Yes, you can, Courier." She saw the glint of a knife as he pulled it from a sheath on his belt, while two men grabbed her arms from behind. She put up a pretend struggle, which turned horribly real when she saw the leader undoing his belt buckle with one hand, holding the knife in the other. "Sorry about this part, but it has to look genuine. If it's any consolation, this is just business. Nothing personal." He reached for her as she tensed to kick him.

And then he dropped, a single bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. The others let her go, grabbing for their own weapons, and she snatched the knife out of the leader's slackened grip and cut one of their throats. She stabbed another one through the spinal column, grabbing his gun and shooting him in the chest for good measure, while the last man disintegrated into a small, glowing puddle. Veronica was standing a few feet away, panting, holding a laser pistol. _She's using energy weapons. So the first bullet came from …_ she calculated the angle. _The rooftops. Shit._

"Who were those guys?" Veronica asked. "How did you know they would attack you?"

"Short version, I think the NCR is trying to kill us all. Long version is in this folder. I need you to take it and go back to the apartment. Get everyone up, show them the holotapes and tell them what happened here. Pack what's important and have everyone meet ..." She thought of the best way to phrase it, so that no one listening could know where they were going. "Meet me by the place where we killed that mutated coyote last month. I know you hate hearing this phrase, and I hate saying it, all things considered, but we need to split up."

"Why?"

"Because the Legion found us too. And I'm not leading our many would-be murderers back to my friends." Veronica looked horrified. "Don't worry. I'm not going to get caught." She lowered her head to Veronica's ear and whispered. "I have a tracker in my Pip-Boy. Arcade knows how to find my location from any terminal. If I'm not there by sunrise, come get me. We're in serious trouble."

"How did you manage to piss off so many people tonight? You said you were just going drinking."

"It's a talent I have."

After making her promise several times not to do anything stupid, Veronica finally left Six at one of the main crossroads in town. She sat on a bench and looked at the skyline, trying to calm her nerves. Drunken revelers poured from the bars, returning to the makeshift apartments and trailers that lined the rooftops of the Hub. They were having one of their periodic late-night blackouts – no more Dam to power the southern NCR – so candlelight sparkled in the windows above. It almost looked pretty, for a city made of ancient, abandoned metal husks.

All in all, she was glad Veronica had been the one to come get her tonight. Marcus would have been a disaster, for obvious reasons, and Arcade would have instantly attacked inside the bar and been gunned down for his trouble. Cass probably would have come in for a drink, and even if they'd made it back outside, she would have never agreed to leave her alone with killers on their trail. Veronica trusted her to make the right decision. Time to see if her trust was justified. Six got up off the bench, stretching, and walked a few streets away, to a more secluded area. The knife and stolen pistol were hot in her hands. She looked around her, seeing no one. "You can come down now."

Vulpes dropped lightly to the ground from behind a rooftop air conditioning unit. He was sporting a black eye, a broken nose, and a look that promised disproportionate vengeance for his injuries. "I warned you. I told you they'd come after you if you were alone."

"You did."

"And I shot the leader. _We_ would have sent better assassins, by the way. Incompetent morons."

"You did, and I'm sure you would have, although I've killed all of your assassins so far."

"And yet you still punched me in the face. A poor way to repay a favor." Six fought against her desire to run as he circled behind her, his arms closing around her waist. "I think I deserve some sort of apology. I'm sure we can come up with something sufficient."

She forced herself to relax forward slightly. _This is for Boone, Raul, Arcade, me. Everyone else you've hurt._ Suddenly, she snapped her head back, smashing into his broken nose. He dropped to the ground, and she turned on him, aiming her gun at his head. "You don't deserve anything other than death."

Six pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Frustrated, she pulled it again and again, looked at the gun, tried to clear the jam. No jam. No fucking _bullets,_ other than the one she'd put through its owner's chest when she stole it. She'd assumed it had a full clip. _He was right about the incompetent morons part._

He was getting up now, real anger etched on his face, and … was that surprise, too? _Did he honestly believe that I wouldn't try to kill him if I had the slightest opportunity?_ She briefly considered tackling him and going for one of his weapons, or just trying to stab him again. But she didn't want to get within melee range and then lose a fight. That had ended badly before. Time for a tried and true tactic, one that had worked long ago in the arena.

Scooping up a handful of dirt from the ground, she lunged at him and flung the sand into his eyes, grinding it in. He yelped and clawed at his face. It would be minutes before he could see anything, but he was already fumbling for a knife, and in close quarters, it would be hard for him to miss. She pushed away and ran through the winding streets.

Once she was satisfied that she had lost him, she ducked into one of the patchwork buildings that made up the trading area of the Hub. It was bustling, even in the middle of the night. She spent all the caps she had on her to buy a revolver, an SMG, a plasma rifle, and an ungodly amount of ammunition. _One more stop before I go._ Six found a safe spot in an abandoned corridor and wrote out three letters, one each to the unofficial commanders of the Vegas Avengers: Lily, Swank, and a rather earnest NCR veteran named Jennifer. After some thought, she decided to leave Swank in charge, since he had some leadership experience running the Tops. She had a sinking feeling that she wouldn't be back soon, if ever. Too bad. The Hub had reminded her of the old Freeside, and she'd begun to enjoy using it as a base of operations. _I guess it's like they say_. _You can't go home again._


	4. I'm On My Own, This Means War

South of the city, Arcade and Veronica waited in the small house by the salt flats where they'd killed what Cass had insisted on calling the "Nuka-Coyote." Arcade was still trying to figure out what was going on. Veronica had shaken him awake, yelling something about the Legion and assassins and meeting Six. Some primal instinct in his brain had kicked in, and he'd found himself packing a bag before he'd even made a conscious decision to get out of bed. Now he was sitting in an armchair while Veronica paced and frantically looked through the window every ten seconds. She'd promised that she'd tell them the full story when everyone was there.

Cass and Marcus, who had been trailing slightly behind them due to an unfortunate radscorpion attack, stumbled through the door. "If this is all some sort of nightmare on Six's part, I'm going to go nuclear on her," said Cass, out of breath. "My feet are killing me."

"It's not," Veronica said flatly. "I saw it. Six punched some guy at the bar, and then four others tried to grab her in an alley." She realized afterward how unimpressive that sounded.

"I thought this had to do with hired killers, not a drunken bar fight gone wrong!" Cass exploded. "We could have handled that in the Hub."

"She gave me this folder and said there were holotapes that would explain everything. Arcade, did you hack that terminal in the office yet like I asked?"

"Sure did. Hand over the tapes."

He inserted the first tape into the computer, and they watched as General Oliver and Major Peterson flickered to life on the screen. After it was over, they rewatched it twice more, in silence. The second and third tapes had similar content, with a few more conspirators visible. Major Villanova, Captain Reynolds, Lieutenant Coleman. All people who had smiled and nodded and worked with them, now coldly plotting to murder them for political advantage.

Arcade spoke first. "Well, that wasn't what I was expecting."

"Fucking dickheads!" Cass spat out, seething. "After a _year_ of fighting on their side, after a year of dealing with their constant bureaucratic bullshit, this is what they pull?"

"Now we know why negotiations kept falling apart," Veronica growled. "I bet these guys were sabotaging it all along. They never wanted to work with the Brotherhood."

"We should take our people and go as far north as we can. Set up a stronghold and let everything south of it burn. They don't want our help? Fine. May the Legion kill them all." Cass was out for blood.

Marcus was paging through the documents in the folder with an unreadable expression. "Veronica, do you know where she got these from?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe the guy in the bar? She was holding it when I came in."

"What did he look like?"

"I didn't get a really good look at him. Dark hair, NCR uniform, seemed pretty relaxed. She hit him in the face about ten seconds after I came in, accused him of grabbing her ass, and then the bouncers threw her out and she told me to run."

"Did you hear him talk at all?" Marcus asked. Arcade caught his eye, and he knew they were both wondering the same thing.

"No, he just fell on the floor and bled a lot," Veronica said. "Which seems to be a common reaction to encountering Six in a bar, now that I think about it. We killed the four who attacked her in the alley, though. They must have been the NCR hit squad; they had knives and everything. I guess they couldn't just shoot her if they want to make it look like the Legion did it."

"When you woke me up, you said something about the Legion," Arcade said.

"She said that they'd found us. I'm not sure what she was talking about."

"You and Cass look exhausted," said Marcus. "Why don't you get some sleep in the main bedroom while Arcade and I stand guard? We'll keep an eye out and wake you with any news."

"Wait a minute!" Veronica exclaimed. "Six told me that you could track her on a computer through her Pip-Boy, Arcade. Can you see where she is?"

He'd almost forgotten about the chip they'd installed in the new Pip-Boy months earlier. They'd been having one of their late-night impromptu therapy sessions, holding each other in bed, when he'd confessed one of his common nightmares. He dreamed that he woke up in the morning to find her gone, a thin trail of blood leading out the door into the desert. He searched and searched for the rest of his life, but he never heard from her again. She'd brought him the tracking chip the next day, helped him install it, and told him that he'd always be able to find her. Time to test that theory.

They crowded back around the terminal and watched Arcade as he worked. Marcus shook his head. "I'll never stop being amazed at your technology. To think I used to run around with wooden spears and piecemeal armor, believing we could defeat an army with airplanes and laser weapons."

"Yeah, well, turns out laser weapons don't give you that much of an advantage when you're outnumbered five to one," said Cass. "From what you told me, that fucking Arizona army is going to overrun the NCR any day now. And while I'm not exactly happy with them at the moment due to all the _planning to kill us_ , I'd like to at least have the opportunity to get the hell out of here before we suddenly find ourselves pursuing new careers in the exciting fields of slavery and execution."

The tracking program beeped to life on the screen. Arcade relaxed visibly when he saw the dot that marked Six's position, slightly southwest of the Hub, heading towards them. She'd be here in about two hours. Of course, there was no guarantee that she'd be alone, but the house was surrounded by miles of flat land; they'd be able to see any attackers long before they arrived, and Marcus was a devastating shot with a sniper rifle.

Cass and Vero went to get some sleep while the men stepped outside to scout the area. About fifty feet away, when they were out of earshot of the house, Arcade said quietly to Marcus, "You know something that you didn't want to say in there. Where did she get that information?"

"This is a Legion intelligence report," Marcus responded, confirming Arcade's fears. "It's Vulpes's handwriting on the documents, too. I suppose an NCR operative could have stolen it from him and given it to Six, but something tells me that's not the case."

"You really think he'd just stroll into a bar in the middle of the Hub? A heavily guarded NCR bar?"

"Why not? I used to do it all the time. It's how I met Cass."

"But you're not one of the leaders of the Legion," Arcade said.

"Did _you_ know what Vulpes looked like before you met him? He's a _spy_. Any time he's out of a Legion encampment, he's just the charming Mr. Fox that walked up to you guys on the Strip, or an innocent refugee, or whatever NCR soldier he's managed to kill and impersonate this time. He infiltrated the Brotherhood once, which even Caesar told him was impossible. He walked out a month later with enough information to make the Enclave of old jealous, not a scratch on him, with everyone in the bunker dead. Even those propaganda posters about him just show the helmet and goggles. We're probably two of the only people outside the Legion who know both his true name and his face."

"Wonderful. That doesn't make me feel like a target at all," Arcade said drily.

"We're all targets. I'm certain that I'm number one on the Legion's enemies list, considering I'm a traitor who gave a massive amount of intelligence to the NCR." Marcus paused and thought. "Actually, I might be number two now, if Six really did punch him in the face."

"Do you think this information is accurate?" Arcade asked.

"Yes," Marcus replied. "Those holotapes are genuine, and it makes sense that a certain element in the NCR would see you as a threat."

"What I can't figure out is why he tipped her off."

"These tapes implicate a good amount of the NCR's leadership," Marcus said thoughtfully. "If we were to kill the people behind the conspiracy, it would weaken the military, and if we exposed them, it would destroy morale among the civilians. The Vegas faction would split from the NCR for good."

"I don't know," Arcade said. "Cass might talk a big game about leaving the NCR to rot, but we all know that without them, the Legion will sweep through this place in months. A poorly organized guerrilla army and whatever Brotherhood troops we can convince to come out of their bunkers won't do a damn thing to stop them. I don't want to cripple them to the point where it hurts our chances to win this war. On the other hand, Six really likes getting revenge on people. Look at Benny."

"So I've heard. In great detail. The topic seems to come up frequently. Some of the ideas she's proposed are truly gruesome, and that's by _Legion_ standards. But back to the topic at hand, if this was a plan to get us to kill Oliver and the others, it's not very well thought out, simply because we don't know if she'll _do_ it. The Frumentarii are perfectly capable of conducting assassinations without outside help. I don't think that's the reason. But I can't think of any others."

"Maybe he just doesn't want anyone else to kill her," Arcade said quietly. "He wants that for himself."

"There you go, then. Not the most comforting of thoughts."


	5. I'm Not Running Anymore

Six breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Arcade and Marcus in front of the house, talking in a makeshift sniper nest. She felt exposed and vulnerable in the open salt flats, and it was comforting to know that someone had her back. Even if everyone else on this blasted coast was trying to arrange her death, her friends would always be by her side.

"Arcade!" she yelled as she came closer. "Are Veronica and Cass in there? Did Veronica talk to you about what happened? Do you guys have guns? We need more guns!"

"Can we discuss this when we're a little closer to each other and don't have to scream our private communications across the desert?" he called back.

Six rolled her eyes and began to jog towards the house. She was half out of breath by the time she reached the porch. "Is everyone safe?" she gasped.

"Everyone's okay," Marcus said. "Veronica showed us the holotapes and told us what happened. The NCR wants to kill us and blame it on the Legion. You seem to attract a lot of assassins."

"There's something else you need to know."

Arcade put his fingers to his temples and rubbed. "Let me guess. You ran into our least favorite frumentarius at Divine's?"

Six frowned. "How did you know?"

"Maybe I'm secretly a psyker. Or maybe Marcus recognized his handwriting. Or maybe there's a limited number of people whom you'd be willing to get kicked out of your favorite bar for attacking."

"All valid points," Six conceded.

"So, what are we going to do?" Marcus said. "We can't stay in the Hub if we have hired guns after us, and we definitely can't stay anywhere near here if the Legion knows where we are."

"Yeah, no one is particularly happy with us right now. I'm supposed to give you a message, but I'm still pissed off, so I'll just say that you currently have no price on your head and let you fill in the details. Blah, blah, betrayal, revenge, personal, eviscerate, and so on." Cass and Veronica had been awakened by the noise and joined them on the porch. Relieved of his post, Marcus excused himself to go inside and make breakfast for them.

"I thought legionaries considered cooking to be a woman's responsibility, Cass," Six said, smiling. "You must have him trained well."

"Like you did a lot of cooking when you were a slave. Did you ever figure out that there's an intermediate ground between raw and burnt meat?"

"No. I also can't cook an egg, or turn a bunch of vegetables into an appetizing salad, or properly heat up prepackaged dinners, or even use a stove without starting a fire. Thankfully, Vulpes thought my incompetence was hilarious. I made lots of cold sandwiches. They were also … not good."

"Not that I don't enjoy fondly reminiscing about our fun months of captivity and enslavement, but we should probably get back to the matter at hand. We were trying to figure out what we should do next, Cass," Arcade explained.

"Does anyone have a plan?" Six asked. "I don't have a plan. I left letters for Swank and the others telling them that we had to go and they should keep fighting but withdraw if it looks like the Hub's going to fall. Do we really want to keep working with the NCR after this?"

"I think it's just a faction of the NCR that wants us dead," Cass said. "I trust Moore and Hsu."

"I've … been told that Kimball isn't part of the plot," said Six. "If we head up to Shady Sands, maybe we can talk to him, get working with the Brotherhood up there."

"Are we just going to let the Boneyard and the Hub fall?" Veronica asked.

"They're already gone," Cass said firmly. "You know how big the Legion army in Arizona is, and Swank told me last night that they're within thirty miles of the Hub now. There's no chance that they won't utterly destroy both cities, absolutely none. It'll be Vegas all over again. And I'd prefer what happened in Vegas to stay in Vegas." She looked over at Six and lowered her voice. "But it's already too late for that, isn't it? You know, me and Cass aren't too delicate to hear the details, and you guys were talking loud enough to wake the dead. Why the _fuck_ didn't you kill Vulpes in Divine's?"

"Trust me, I wanted to do it more than anything. But my gun was by my ankle, there were a million armed bouncers, and I was pretty drunk. If it makes you feel any better, I tried to shoot him in the head less than an hour later. Too bad the killers the NCR sent weren't fans of carrying proper ammunition, or we'd have one less thing to worry about."

"That does make me feel better, actually. I was worried you had gone completely insane and forgotten who the enemy is."

"At this point, the enemy is everyone," said Arcade.

"Always the optimist, Dr. Gannon," teased Veronica. "No wonder you don't have a job right now."

"You shouldn't be so mean to me. Particularly since I think I've come up with a plan. Well, kind of a plan. It's more of an overall strategy."

"That's more than any of us have come up with," Six said. "Let's hear it."

"So, here's where we stand." Arcade pulled a worn and folded map of the NCR and Legion territories out of his pocket, "Let's take Cass's word that the Hub and the Boneyard are unsalvageable at this point. I haven't heard anything from south of the Boneyard, but knowing the Legion's views on ghouls, they probably eliminated Dayglow immediately. So the next settlement in their path is Junktown, which won't even be a road bump. And then ..."

"Shady Sands," supplied Cass. "And then it's all over."

"Well, let's look further north. Does anyone know anything about Vault City?"

"They'll join the Legion," said Marcus, who had silently reappeared with pancakes. "It's already arranged. Caesar's going to give them the opportunity to become free citizens and stay in their little enclave. They own servants anyway, it's not like it'll be much of a change for them."

"Fantastic," said Six. "Arcade, is this a plan, or just an enormous list of reasons to give up?"

"Here are our options." Arcade jabbed a finger at the map. "New Reno. They're not part of the NCR. They're basically New Vegas without the Securitrons, and they will _definitely_ fight the Legion."

"Do they have an army? Or any shot at winning?" Veronica asked.

"Um … probably not. They're run by criminal gangs, and while they're certainly effective at their jobs, I don't think they have a standing army. They'll be the first target after Shady Sands. Den of profligate sinners and all that. They might be good for helping a resistance movement, though, if we can get the families to stop fighting for five minutes."

"You guys might not know this, but we also have a bounty on our heads there," Cass said. "The Van Graffs, remember? They're one of the crime families and we _disintegrated_ some of them, not that they didn't deserve it."

"So that's out. Next up is Arroyo, which sounds perfect. It's a tribal city, technologically advanced, well-defended, and absolutely beautiful. They should welcome us with open arms."

"I sense a but coming, Arcade," Cass said.

"But. They're the farthest city to the north in the NCR. To get there, we'd have to squeeze between Shady Sands and the supermutants at Mariposa. It might be a great final destination, but we're not going to be able to get there until we deal with all the situations down here. And once again, there's no guarantee the Legion won't decide to attack there too."

"The Brotherhood has recovered a lot of tech from Navarro," Veronica said. "That could be used to set up extra defenses for Arroyo."

"You know what? I'm tired of running," Six said, resting her head on Arcade's shoulder. "All these cities, they're just going to keep us one step ahead of the Legion until they chase us into the ocean. It might work if we weren't on their personal hit list, but it's too late to change that."

"So what are you suggesting? Go to Shady Sands and fight it out there?" Cass asked.

"I think Six and I are on the same page," Arcade said. "We can only run so far, we can't trust the NCR to work with us, and we can't take on the Legion's army face to face. So we have to consider unconventional tactics." He pointed to two dots on the map. "Vault 15. Vault 13. Both abandoned. Both well-fortified. Both within striking distance of Shady Sands."

Six's eyes lit up. "The Vaults! Why didn't I think of the Vaults?"

"Good question, because you're always thinking about the damned Vaults," Cass snapped. "You haven't seen her with them, Marcus. We were running from a cazador nest and a squad of legionary assassins, and then she heard a little beep from her Pip-Boy, she squealed, and she was _gone_."

"It's not my fault that you can't see how awesome exploring a Vault is. Plus, the cazadors and the legionaries couldn't get in after us, so it all worked out."

"That Vault was full of angry plant-human hybrids!" Cass said loudly. "It took us days to slaughter everyone!"

"But we got a special laser rifle out of it. I think it got burnt up at the 38. I miss that rifle."

" _Stop changing the subject_ , you two," groaned Arcade. "We've got two usable vaults, each of which we could easily use as a base. We can't defeat the Legion in a head-on conflict, but you know what you're really good at, Six, aside from talking your way out of trouble? Stealing. Sneaking. Disruption. Infiltration. Sabotage. Things that we can do in a small group, things that don't need an army of thousands. Sneak out, strike at something important, then go back to the Vault."

"So basically, we'd be the Vegas version of the Frumentarii," Six said slowly.

"Yes, that's … exactly the comparison I was trying not to make. But essentially, that's right."

"And what if Shady Sands falls?" Veronica asked.

"Then we slip out during the chaos and push on to Arroyo while they're celebrating their victory. What do you guys think? Yea or nay? I'm not going to force anyone into this if they don't want to."

"Yea," said Veronica and Cass instantly.

"I'm going with yea, unless there's a chance we can still defeat them by helping the NCR or the Brotherhood," Marcus said. "Like Six, I don't want to run forever. Or hiding in a Vault until the end of time. Maybe when things come down to the wire at Shady Sands, we can join the front lines."

Six seemed lost in thought. Arcade snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Six? Six? Come back."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I vote yea. But I reserve the right to kill any legionaries I see, _especially_ those _assholes_ in charge. And I don't care if it's the least subtle thing in the world. Arcade, what's the difference between Vault 13 and Vault 15?"

"15 is southeast of Shady Sands, which the original inhabitants founded. There used to be squatters there, but I'm pretty sure they've all joined the NCR by now. There's water and structure damage inside the Vault, but it's habitable and has food and water. 13 is north of the city, and it's supposed to be really nice. No one's heard much about it in years, but there used to be intelligent deathclaws living there and helping shelter humans."

Six remembered one of the least disturbing fragments of the previous night's conversation. "Vulpes mentioned something about sentient deathclaws, but I thought he was being sarcastic. I don't think the Legion would have much pull with them. He seemed pretty dismissive."

"They're probably all dead anyway," Arcade said. "The Enclave wiped them out when they didn't turn out to be mindless killing machines. 13 is a little farther away from the main city and is harder to find, so I'd consider that our option for if the Legion gets too close to 15."

"So we're agreed? Head to Vault 15, avoid the front lines unless it comes down to the wire, sabotage the Legion, and then book it for 13 when they get close and Arroyo if it gets overrun?" Marcus asked.

"Sounds good to me. What about the Vegas Avengers, though?" Veronica inquired.

"Swank's in charge, and he's got close ties with our _real_ allies now, thanks to you," Six said. Veronica blushed. "They'll be fighting along with the Followers and the Brotherhood down south for the time being. I'll be sending him suggestions and any information we manage to gather. He can pass that on to the NCR. They might not like us right now, but I _know_ they're never going to ignore intelligence on the Legion."

"Vault 15 is a long walk. Shall we get going before we have an army on our tail?" Arcade suggested.

After they finally set off, Six and Arcade trailed slightly behind, talking over the plan and the events of the previous night. Arcade smiled. "Six, I have to say that I'm looking forward to seeing how much of a cunning, crafty, underhanded bitch you can be, freed from that 'hero of the Mojave' reputation."

"Well, I did learn from the best, as unintentional as that was," she said, smirking. "That fucker's going to regret ever giving me access to his library. I read through all his political books when I was stuck in that apartment. I'm practically an encyclopedia of pre-war history now. May the most devious win."

A week or so later, they picked up a news report on the Pip-Boy radio. The NCR military headquarters in the Hub had been destroyed by a number of bombs and an intentional break in a gas line. Six was not at all surprised to hear that almost everyone who she'd seen on the holotapes had been found burned to death in a conference room. According to a secretary that had escaped, an unfamiliar ranger had told the commanders that there was an emergency meeting that day, chained the doors shut from the outside once they were all in the room, and then walked away as the flames rose.

Afterward, of course, the Legion swept the city.


	6. That Train Don't Stop Here Anymore

Six hated to admit it, but she was really enjoying herself.

They'd set up shop in Vault 15 a couple of months ago. It had taken some work to clean the place up and wipe out the stray mole rats who had moved into the abandoned tunnels, but they'd had time to do a good job. Veronica and Cass made several trips to Shady Sands to purchase supplies and food, and the place was looking great, even downright homey in some spots. The Christmas lights strung up around their common areas were a nice touch, and the pre-war couches were threadbare but remarkably comfortable. Marcus and Six had touched up the Vault's defenses and repaired some turrets, but there wasn't much else to be done. The enormous steel door was reassuringly solid. Six checked it several times a day.

And the weapons! So many weapons. Cass had found a storeroom that was untouched since the original residents left to found the NCR, and they'd eventually managed to pick the lock to discover a veritable armory. It took all of Six's restraint, and some choice words from Arcade, to keep from picking up the missile launcher and heading south until she found the nearest person wearing red.

Not that they needed heavy weaponry to do damage. Not anymore. As Arcade had predicted, they had a talent for sneaking around. Cass charmed her way into an NCR building while Veronica picked the lock to General Oliver's office. They found enough information to confirm that the conspiracy to kill them began and ended with Oliver. Marcus had suggested slipping a mine beneath one of his desk legs, but had been vetoed by everyone else. Killing him wouldn't end what had already been started, and they needed the NCR as strong as possible. Because the Legion was looking unstoppable.

The fighting was still a ways out from Shady Sands, but they'd been running into scouts in the hills more and more lately. Some of the Vegas Avengers had arrived at the Vault bearing stories of atrocities to the south and requesting asylum. There were now around thirty people living in Vault 15: NCR veterans, ghouls, Vegas refugees. Some of them joined in on the missions against the Legion, forming squads of two or three people. Others helped maintain their weapons and defenses, and they even had a few people who were good at cooking and cleaning, much to the relief of Six, who hated doing both of those things.

She was at her best when she was outside, sniping legionaries in their forward camps with Marcus or setting up mine traps with Veronica. She'd slipped into a centurion's tent one night, slit his throat before he was able to raise an alarm, and walked out with enough information on their troop movements that even Arcade had done a little happy dance when he saw how much she'd gotten. A few days later, they'd sent a larger squad than usual out, ambushing a very surprised group of legionaries who'd been in the process of crucifying three captured NCR rangers. Cass and Marcus had quickly cut them down and sent them on their way with a ton of information and a suggestion that they remind their superiors that Six's group was on _their_ side, for the time being.

Figuring out what to do with the one legionary they'd captured alive was a more difficult process. Normally Six had no problem killing recruits, but this one was sixteen and terrified. He had no valuable information, not that she would have resorted to torture to get anything out of him. There were some lines that you just couldn't cross. Eventually, they turned him loose on the plains to the south with some basic equipment and a letter for his superiors. Six and Arcade had written the letter a few weeks prior, and while they'd considered nailing it to the dead body of one of the many Legion scouts they killed, they'd decided to use the kid as a courier instead. Stripped of its florid profanity and personal threats, it was a simple message. _We're done running. You will die for everything you've done._

Today she was on a rare solo trip to check out reports of a disturbance northwest of the city. It was too far north for any Legion activity, and she'd been wanting a break from the Vault, so she'd requested to go scout it herself. A few days alone, thinking up plans and getting a better feel for the greater Shady Sands area, sounded perfect. And the hills to the north were gorgeous, lined with the tallest trees Six had ever seen in her life. On the off chance that they made it out of this mess alive, she was seriously going to consider moving up here.

She sniffed the air, smelling something industrial, and decided to be more cautious with her movements. After walking another mile, she saw something metallic and multicolored through the trees. _Oh, it's an NCR supply train! Cool. I didn't realize there were tracks going this far. It probably goes up to Redding and Klamath. I'll have to keep that in mind, just in case we have to book it out of here._ Relieved, she turned to head deeper into the woods when she tripped over something and went sprawling to the ground. It was the body of a civilian, dead only a few hours, deep knife wounds on his abdomen. He was wearing some sort of unfamiliar uniform.

Six carefully turned around and made her way to the train, crouching behind cover when she was close enough. Now that she could see it clearly, it was obvious that something was horribly wrong. Dead bodies littered the clearing around the train tracks, and she could see groups of legionaries standing around talking. She wasn't close enough to eavesdrop on their conversations, but she could occasionally hear laughter. They seemed to be waiting around for something.

_This is too far north for comfort. This is way, way too far north. They must be riding the fucking train up. If they establish a camp up here, they'll be able to hit Shady Sands from both sides. And I was planning on using this as our escape route. Someone needs to do something about this. Luckily, I have a backpack full of guns and explosives, and I haven't killed anyone in days._

Mining the tracks a few miles ahead was easy enough. They'd done it repeatedly while trying to disrupt the train from Quarry Junction to the NCR. But all that would do is stop them from continuing on. She needed to destroy the train itself, mess it up so badly it would be irreparable, and then she could get reinforcements and wipe out the legionaries up here without worrying about another group coming in to replace them. A few sticks of dynamite around the engine should do it. _When the train hits the mines, it'll set off a chain explosion. I just need to make sure that I jump off before that happens._

It wasn't difficult to sneak onto one of the cars. It looked like they were transporting supplies, probably to establish the camp that she was worried about. Well, she'd take care of that. _Arcade is going to be so proud. After he finishes being upset with me for doing this all on my own without telling anyone._ She edged around the exterior of the train, making sure to stay hidden from sight, and planted the dynamite beneath the engine and the first few cars. Then she crept back to an open boxcar about ten cars behind the engine. Six knew she didn't have to stick around, but she wasn't going to miss seeing this.

She hid behind a stack of crates as the voices from outside grew louder. A group of four legionaries boarded the car, laughing and talking about some skirmish they'd fought on the way up. _Well, shitfuck. Guess I'll have to take a few of them out before I jump off. What a shame._ With a start, she realized that two of the legionaries were centurions. She recognized one of them from the clinic in Vegas. _Remind me not to get too close to that one, just in case he's still contagious._ Still, this made things more complicated. She had been expecting recruits, maybe a few veterans, but not any centurions. They must really have banked on this idea. _It's not a bad plan, either. They're going to be super pissed when this train is destroyed. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when they have to tell Caesar._

The train started rolling, and she adjusted her grip on her weapons. A knife in her left hand, a pistol in her right, her favorite setup for these sorts of situations. When she was sure that no one was looking at her hiding place, she struck. One of the centurions went down immediately with a knife through his back. While they reached for their weapons, totally unprepared for her attack, she shot the other centurion and pushed him at one of the remaining legionaries. His body fell off the train into a ravine, taking the legionary with him. She cursed as the remaining recruit hit a red button on his radio, seconds before she took his head off with a dropped machete. _Reinforcements. Awesome._ She looked out the open side door and saw the train was within a minute of her mine trap.

The doors between the train cars were flung open, and she heard angry voices and gunshots. She hauled up the headless recruit, using his body as a shield between her and the reinforcements. A stinging pain blossomed in her left arm, radiating to her shoulder, and she involuntarily dropped his body as she clutched her wounded forearm. The bullet had gone in and out, but that didn't make it hurt any less. _Time to go._ She spun quickly, firing back at them, and gracelessly jumped out of the train car. She had intended to curl up and roll, but something hit her hard from behind and she landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her.

Six tried to get to her feet, but was swiftly kicked in the chest. She'd lost her pistol and her supply bag when she hit the ground. She had managed to stumble to her hands and knees, rooting around in the dirt for her weapons, when she heard the explosion. The sight of the train blowing up, then derailing and catching fire, was glorious to behold. It was almost enough to distract her from the furious legionary who had gotten hold of her bag and was training her own pistol on her, _goddammit, of course it had to be him, nothing this awesome ever happens to me without it all going to hell._

"What the _fuck_ did you just do?" snarled Vulpes.

"Um … was that your train? Sorry." _Sorry I got caught._

"You're not sorry. But you will be. Get up. Keep your hands where I can see them."

She slowly rose to her feet, keeping her hands in front of her. Blood dripped down her left arm to the ground. Good thing her Pip-Boy had been proven time and again to be waterproof. Not that it mattered, other than to show Arcade where to find her body. From the look on his face, she was about to become the first person to end up crucified on a redwood tree.

"I'm surprised to see you all the way out here. Your little _resistance movement -_ " she got the distinct feeling that he would be making air quotes with his fingers if he wasn't pointing a gun at her – "has been quite productive lately." He cast a withering look at the wreckage of the train. "You blew up the tracks, too? Did you also salt the earth so nothing could ever grow again?"

"What did you expect would happen?" she spat. "Did you think I'd just go 'oh, a train full of legionaries way to the north of Shady Sands, I'm sure they just got sidetracked on the way to the beach?'"

"I _expect_ you to be harassing our forces in the south with your band of misfits, not wandering the forest picking flowers with a backpack full of fucking dynamite! Do you even know where we are?"

"No," she said. There was a fleeting expression of worry on his face, gone in a flash, but there long enough for her to catch it. She smiled. "And you don't either. Not without the train. You're _lost."_

He didn't bother to deny it. "How were you going to find your way out?"

Six held up her left wrist. "Pip-Boy navigation. Although if I can't stop this bleeding, I might end up losing the arm. Can you give me back my bag so I can bandage it?"

Vulpes rolled his eyes. "Nice try, but I think I'll be holding onto your bag of explosive death." He dug through her pack and tossed her a Stimpak, some clean water, and a spare roll of gauze. As she tried to clean and dress the bullet wound, he glared at the Pip-Boy like it was some alien object. "Does that thing come off your arm? The new one has a metal band. It looks like a slave collar. Would it blow up? If, for example, someone were to cut off your arm and try to use it to navigate out of the woods?"

"Good question. Let's try it and see. That's the only way you're going to get to look at the map." Six realized that she wasn't scared of his threats, not anymore. What could he possibly do that was worse than what he'd already done? Plus, he wasn't serious. Was he?

"I have a better idea," he said. "You use that … device to get us both somewhere safe, south of Shady Sands, and I let you walk for your _idiotic_ stunt with the train. You can scuttle back to your hideout. I won't even follow you back there and kill your friends, until the next time you decide to do something stupid and get caught. That shouldn't take more than a few weeks, after all."

"Or I can just leave you to get eaten by night stalkers and make my way out on my own. You're not making a very persuasive case by acting like a jackass."

"Or I can knock you out, figure out how to use that thing myself, drag you out of here unconscious, and then you wake up chained to a post in a Legion camp. I suspect you'd be significantly less happy with that result. I still have your gun, and all your gear, remember? You don't really have much of a choice. Be grateful that I'm even giving you an easy option."

" _Fine,"_ she snapped, hating that he was right. "I didn't miss these forced marches at gunpoint at _all_ , by the way. And you need to wear something less conspicuous. We're deep in the NCR now, and I'm not going to end up in a shallow grave in the woods because someone was dumb enough to think I was traveling with a legionary of my own free will."

Six programmed their destination into her Pip-Boy while Vulpes changed into his ranger uniform. She felt she was owed a little petulance. "You smell like smoke in that outfit. Next time you blow up a major military installation, you should probably do laundry after. Do you know how to do laundry? It involves soap and water, not just killing a new person for their clothing. I know you're just a tribal savage masquerading as a civilized person, but you can probably learn some basics." He stiffened at her last statement, and she knew she'd hit home; being reminded of his past as a tribal bothered him. _I can use that. Needling him is actually pretty fun. Why didn't I do this more often in Vegas?_

"Strong words from the woman covered in a fine coat of dynamite powder. How much longer do I have to endure your company before we can go our separate ways? You were much more pleasant when you were tied to my bed, where you belong. Do you miss that, _slave_?" She gritted her teeth and refused to acknowledge him. _Oh, right, that's why. Because he's better at it than I am. It's not that enjoyable when he's fighting dirty and winning._

He smiled and continued. "I'm looking forward to recreating it when we take Shady Sands and you're forced to bow to the Legion. A few lashes for your disobedience, maybe a branding, and then I'll have you all to myself. A reward for my loyal service, as Caesar has agreed. I'll even buy you a nicer collar, maybe something in silver, with a lock this time. Something much more permanent to remind you of your place beneath me. Figuratively and literally." _That escalated quickly._ Rationally, she'd known what would likely happen to her if the Legion won the war, but to hear it spelled out like that so casually, as if it were already a foregone conclusion ... she decided not to think about it further for now.

"I'm going to ignore you now. To answer your actual question, according to my Pip-Boy, it'll be about a twenty hour walk before I don't have to listen to your stupid fucking comments anymore."

He shrugged. "You started it. Lead on, then. We'll have to stop for the night soon. It's been a long and incredibly disappointing day."


	7. It's Not A Mask, So Be Honest With Me

Vulpes and Six didn't talk as they picked their way through the woods. Shortly after sunset, he'd insisted that they set up a camp for the night; the tree cover was very thick, and what little moonlight shone through wasn't enough to keep them from tripping over branches and rocks. She'd begun to argue with him, but stopped when they almost fell into a nest of night stalkers. Luckily, that had ended up working out well. Unluckily, it led to another opportunity for him to criticize her cooking.

"So this is what we in civilized society refer to as 'dinner'," Vulpes said patronizingly. "You may notice that it was cooked on something called a  _fire,_ which can be used to make meat edible as well as the things you tend to use it for, such as burning down tents and blowing up trains. The meat is held over the fire until it turns pink or brown, not dropped in the ashes until it gets black and crispy, or completely forgotten about on a kitchen counter and left raw while the chef goes and reads in the bathtub instead. It does not come out of a  _box,_ nor is it eaten in bed, where one can get crumbs everywhere and annoy the actual owner of said bed when he comes home from a long day at work."

"I really loathe you," Six said. "Is this all because I called you a tribal savage?"

"Consider it a teachable moment." Vulpes handed her one of the night stalker legs he had roasted. "These actually aren't bad. A little gamey, maybe, but it's nice to eat something that was trying to kill us. It tastes like victory."

At moments like this, she could see the framework of the man he might have been, intelligent, quick-witted, charming, full of intellectual curiosity. But things had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the line. She wondered what had happened that had twisted him into what he was, that turned him into a devil made flesh. Was it the Legion's ideology that changed men into monsters, led them to enjoy raping and torturing and tormenting their victims, or was it something that had been there all along? _Or maybe,_ said a treacherous voice in her head, _it's the job. The one that you're doing yourself nowadays. _She remembered her sense of glee as she slit that centurion's throat in his own tent, how proud she'd been when she blew up the train hours ago, and how much time she spent fantasizing about the slow deaths she could inflict on Vulpes and Lucius and Caesar himself. _Where is the line?_

"Something on your mind?" he asked. "You're not eating."

Suddenly, she had to find out. "If I asked you a question, could I get an honest answer?"

"That depends. Is the question going to be something along the lines of 'so where are all your troops planning on heading'? If so, I wouldn't bother."

"No, not that. Just … I want to know some things, and I don't want to hear sarcasm, or manipulation, or games. I just want a real conversation."

"Hmm. Can I do the same, then?"

She wasn't expecting that. "Do what?"

"Ask you questions and get honest answers. I'm not tired yet, and we don't exactly have much of an agenda until the sun comes up. It could be interesting. You go first."

"Okay." Six couldn't just jump into the heavy stuff. 'What the fuck is wrong with you' would probably not be well-received. "Why are you scared of the woods?"

"I'm not _scared_ of the woods, but I'll admit I don't like it. I'm used to being in deserts, where I can see for miles, even in moonlight, and I never have to worry about anyone suddenly dropping on me from above with a knife. It requires another dimension of awareness, and I find it disconcerting."

"That makes sense," she said. "Your turn now."

"How did you decide your loyalties at Hoover Dam? Why didn't you side with us, or the NCR?"

"I thought I already answered that question a long time ago," she snapped. "It didn't end well."

"No, I asked whether you regretted it," he said. "But you never told me why you did what you did."

She thought for a moment. "Well, Mr. House was an abomination. He should have died centuries ago, and he did nothing for Vegas other than keep the rich rich and the poor poor. The NCR … maybe I knew deep down that they couldn't be trusted. They talked a good game, but they never did anything that didn't somehow benefit themselves. They kept expanding their territory and getting into war after war, just like every other empire. And they never treated me with respect. They just assumed I was going to work for them because they were the lesser evil. At least Caesar talked to me like I was a human being, not just a chess piece. And he had valid points. The Mojave was corrupt as all hell, and the NCR wasn't going to make anything better for anyone but the NCR."

"So why didn't you fight for us, then?" _Was he really that clueless?_

"Because the Legion is fucking evil, that's why!" He raised his eyebrows at her sudden anger. "I might not have known how bad you guys really were then, but I knew it was nothing I wanted any part of. What do you think I heard about the Legion before I went to the Fort? I stumbled out of Goodsprings, still recovering after being shot in the head, and wandered into a burning town with people dying up on crosses, heads on spikes, like some sort of nightmare. And then I saw you, acting like there was absolutely nothing that could possibly be wrong with the situation, wearing that stupid fucking dog hat and yammering about 'sending a message.' The first friend I made, the only person I was ever sure would follow me to hell and back, _the one you killed,_ shot his own wife so she wouldn't be one of the Legion's slaves. Nipton and Searchlight and Nelson and Cottonwood Cove, fucking Ranger Station Charlie, I saw _all of that_ before I even went to Vegas!"

He gave her a moment to collect herself before speaking. "Then why did you even come to the Fort?"

"Because I make very poor decisions," Six said drily. "And I was curious. I wanted to see what Caesar had to say to me that was so important that he had to say it in person. Plus, Cass made me promise to scout out weak points so we could come back later and level the place. Here's my question. What would have happened if I _did_ side with you?"

"The same thing that eventually happened, slightly earlier. We would have taken the Dam, then Vegas."

"I know that," she said, exasperated. "I mean, what would have happened to me? And my friends?"

"Who knows? Maybe you would have become a slave anyway, and your friends would have been killed. Maybe that sniper you try so hard to avoid talking about would have shot you for your betrayal. Maybe you all would have gotten a nice house in Flagstaff and a squad of cabana boys to serve you. I didn't bother to think about it, since I knew you weren't going to help us from the beginning."

"How did you know that?" she asked, trying to keep thoughts of Boone out of her head.

"For the same reason _you_ knew you were never going to help us," he said smugly. "Nipton. You were about three seconds away from attacking all of us with nothing but a cheap rifle and a baseball bat. I doubled back and watched while you shot those degenerates in the head to put them out of their misery, and then you immediately went east, wiped out all of my recruits and freed those we took as slaves. You went from zero to mass murder in about an hour. It's too bad that you saw that incident before I was able to talk you into supporting the Legion's more noble goals. You would have been an incredible ally. That desire for revenge, that sense of justice, harnessed properly and directed at our enemies? You could have been the first frumentaria. I'd have trained you myself. You would have been _devastating_. With your pull in the Mojave, you'd have been able to take out half of the NCR leadership before they realized anything was wrong. Such a pity that you make very poor decisions."

 _Now that's a surprise … and not one that eases my conscience about the path that I'm on right now. _"Really? A profligate woman as one of your spies? I'm sure that would have gone over well with the rest of the legionaries."

"Tough shit for them, then. I'm not some brain-dead recruit who thinks that women are less intelligent than men. You're smarter than ninety percent of my men, and more ruthless than at least half. You'd be sipping margaritas on the beach right now, instead of stumbling through a night stalker-infested forest at gunpoint, and Kimball's head would be on a spike next to Caesar's throne. Too bad you like to pretend that your moral standards are somehow superior to ours."

She paused. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

"It almost was," Vulpes said. "My turn. Why aren't you scared of me anymore?"

"What? Are you worried you're going to lose your bad reputation? I can assure you that you're still the worst human being that I've ever met."

"I'd hope so, otherwise I'd be seriously concerned about the sort of people you've been spending time with lately," he said. "And no, you're not actually afraid of me, not like you used to be. We're sitting here having a normal conversation, like normal people who aren't plotting to kill each other. You barely even flinched when I told you about my plans for you earlier."

"I'm not _dumb_. I know the consequences if the Legion wins, because I've been there already. There's no reason for me to fear you because you can't do anything worse than the things you've already done."

"Want to bet?" Six rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks for proving my point. A year ago you would have been trying not to cry after a comment like that. You were almost broken, did you know that? I saw it in your eyes the morning your friends freed you. It would have taken just a few more weeks, and you would have been calling me 'master' and polishing my armor in the mornings."

"And was that really what you had hoped for?" she snarled, letting her temper get the better of her, stepping towards him. He was right about her almost breaking, but he didn't have to know that she knew. "For someone who spent so much time talking about obedience and respect when we were in front of Caesar, you sure fucking got off on it when I argued and fought and swore at you. What do you want from me,anyway? Because I'm never going to be a compliant little slave. I'll fight you forever."

"That's _exactly_ what I want," he hissed, getting in her face. "I want you to hate me, to desire me, to be as _obsessed_ with me as I am with you. I want to hear you struggle against your chains and curse me to your last breath, and then I want to fuck you into the mattress until you scream for me to stop, and then scream for more _._ I want you to be collared by my side when I take the throne as the next Caesar, to bear my children, and to never, ever forget that you're _mine_ and _I own you."_

Six stumbled backwards, debating the merits of just running off into the woods. Without a weapon or supplies, she'd be easy prey for wild animals, but at the moment that seemed to be a better option. He smiled coldly. "You wanted honest answers. I suppose I was wrong. You _are_ still afraid of me."

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" It had taken a while, and had led to a conversation that she was going to try to never think about again, but she'd finally gotten to the question she'd wanted to ask all along. "What happened to you that made you like this? You _know_ that rape and torture and slavery are wrong, and you do them anyway! Is it something about being in the Legion? How can you _justify -"_

Vulpes cut her off. "I don't justify anything that I do. That's nothing but weakness. Of course I know that those things are wrong. I do them anyway simply because  _I enjoy doing them._ That's all there is to it. I'm a bad person who likes to do bad things, Courier, and I always have been. You want to blame the Legion for the person I became? The only thing the Legion has done is give me the power and the means to satisfy my desires. So don't try to look for any deeper meaning or sob stories to explain away my actions. I know you try to see the good in everyone, but you'll get nowhere looking for it in me."

For the first time that night, Six knew he was lying to her. There was something more there, something deeper, something that had led them into this spiral of mutual obsession, him with her and her with revenge. If he just wanted someone to hurt, there were plenty of easier options. And if he had no humanity in him at all, he wouldn't have clung to her so desperately whenever he slept, as if she was the only thing anchoring him from falling into a nightmare.  _Something happened to him, probably a long time ago. But after what he said before, I don't particularly care to find out what it is._

"I'm tired of this," she said abruptly. "I'm going to bed. I presume you mined the area around the camp, so you can get some rest yourself. I'd like this journey to be over as soon as humanly possible."


	8. You're Intidimating As All Hell But I Ain't Scared Of You

It was the middle of the night, and Six was still awake, watching Vulpes. He'd seemed disappointed that she didn't want to sleep next to him ("I don't give a damn if it's the only blanket there is. Are you literally a crazy person?"), but he hadn't pressed the issue. Now he was deeply asleep on his bedroll, using her bag of gear as a makeshift pillow, clutching a thin blanket tightly as he dreamed whatever it was he dreamed about. _He almost looks normal when he sleeps. Too bad that I'm going to have to kill him tonight._

Fuck no, she wasn't going to let this one go. She'd been making a lot of moral compromises lately, but this wasn't going to be one of them. She wasn't going to spend the rest of her life as a slave, or mistress, or breeding stock, or whatever the name was for what he wanted her to be. _I'd rather die on a cross a thousand times than live like that._ Thankfully, he'd left her hands and feet untied, apparently confident that she wouldn't run off into the woods without any weapons. A careless mistake. She didn't want to risk waking him by trying to get to her gear bag, but luckily she'd found a suitably sharp stick on the ground and had tested it in their campfire, making sure it was solid enough to pierce flesh.

 _In through the throat, out through the spine, get my shit and get out of here._ Six rose cautiously and made her way towards the other side of the fire. He turned in his sleep, rolling onto his side, facing away from where she waited. When she was sure he wasn't about to wake up, she crept towards him, noticing that his position gave her an easy shot through his neck. _See how many smart-ass threats you can make once this thing goes through your vocal cords._ It almost seemed too good to be true.

And of course, it was. Vulpes grabbed her makeshift spear the moment she steadied it to drive it into his throat. His other hand encircled her bad wrist and he yanked hard; she crashed face first into the ground. She scrambled to get to her bag, but he was already on her, dragging her by the hair away from the stolen supplies.

"Do you think I'm an _idiot?"_ he snarled in her ear as he pushed her back into the dirt on her hands and knees. "Do you think I'm really stupid enough to fall asleep with you sitting ten feet away plotting to kill me? I was under the impression that you at least respected my skills, but I see you're in need of a reminder." She flinched as she felt the blade of a knife against her throat as he kneeled behind her, pulling her head up with the hand that was tangled in her hair.

"Was this another goddamned _test?"_

"Yes. You didn't pass." He trailed the knife down her back to the base of her spine, slicing through her thin leather armor and the cloth shirt beneath it. He shoved her face into the ground, and she heard more ripping noises, the purpose of which became abundantly clear when he grabbed her wrists and tied them together with a strip he'd cut out of her armor. At least he'd left them in front of her, so she could balance herself and keep her head out of the dirt.

"And now you're going to punish me, I expect?" she said between clenched teeth. "Didn't you promise me safe passage if I got you out of here?"

"Trying to impale me with a branch just about negates any deals we may have made, don't you think? And I promised no such thing. I said I'd let you go once we got to the road, not that you'd have an enjoyable time getting there."

"You're such a bastard," Six hissed. "Was this your plan all along?"

"Close. I really thought you'd attack me during that little question and answer session. You surprised me by showing some semblance of restraint for once. You never were good at controlling your temper."

"Go fuck yourself," she said bitterly. His laugh made her skin crawl.

"Now why would I need to do that, when I've got a good little slave girl here to do it for me?" He leaned back over her, tugging down her pants and underwear to rest at her ankles.

"If you just wanted someone on their hands and knees, I'm sure you could have gotten another legionary in that position," Six said, feeling his hands dig into her hips, tightly enough to bruise. Pleased at making him angry, she continued, "Oh, don't lie. We all know what you Legion boys do when there aren't enough women to go around. You're practically famous for it. Were you always on top, or did you ever have to bend over and take it in the -"

She jerked forward as he slammed into her without warning. "What was that? Take it in the ass?" he purred at her. "What a good idea, slave. We'll have to try that next." She hoped not – every time he'd fucked her like that, she'd screamed and bled while he laughed at her pain. It was the hallmark of a bad night back in Vegas, the worst nights, where she'd be half unconscious by the end.

He pulled back and set a fast rhythm. She felt like he was scraping at an exposed nerve; she wasn't ready, it was too much, everything hurt. This was purely to punish her, not meant for either of their pleasure. He leaned over to bite her neck and she shook her head rapidly. "Don't. Not where anyone can see." Assuming that he didn't decide to just drag her off to a Legion camp, she was planning on meeting her friends the next day, and she didn't want any awkward questions.

"Are you trying to tell me what to do?"

"Maybe," she breathed.

"Then make it worth my while." He leaned back, pulling her with him, until she was sitting on his lap, knees spread to either side of his legs. He thrust upwards, and something about the change in angle made her spark, her toes curling involuntarily. She felt him smile against her back as his hands encircled her waist, one traveling upward to caress her breasts while the other crept between her legs. As he touched her where they were joined, she shivered and sank down further on him. "Mmm, yes. Like that. I love it when you squirm around me. Now move."

It still hurt, but it was getting easier as she raised herself up on her knees, then lowered. He seemed content to let her set the pace for now, one hand idly rubbing her clit as the other trailed along her back, brushing against the scarred flesh. She wasn't ashamed anymore that he was pushing the right buttons; after all, he was the one that had installed them. It might have been okay if he hadn't started talking, never missing an opportunity to taunt her.

"I missed you," Vulpes said, with surprising candor. "Did you miss me? Did you miss this? You must have, with how wet you're becoming."

"Somehow I managed to find other ways to occupy my time."

"Hmm, I'll bet. Did you fuck anyone else? Suck the cock of any NCR dogs? I need to know so I can kill them in front of you. Unless you were with that Brotherhood girl. Then I'll happily step aside, as long as I can watch." She growled under her breath. It was such a stereotypically male thing to say, she almost told him that she was disappointed in him. _You can be more creative than that._

"Leave my friends out of this," she said, trying to mirror his own slightly amused tone. "And surely you can stick to slaughtering your own bed partners? From what intelligence we've gathered, you've certainly developed a reputation for _that._ Did they fail to meet your exacting standards of 'anyone who begs me not to?'"

 _And … yep, that was over the line_ , Six thought as he suddenly grabbed her legs and pulled her down on him, her thighs spreading open painfully. He thrust deep a few more times as she moaned, then pushed her back to her hands and knees and grabbed her throat before driving into her again. "Heh. You're so cute when you're pissing me off on purpose _._ So are you spying on me and my _bed partners_ now?"

The few Vegas Avengers they'd tried to send into the Legion undercover were returned to the hills in pieces, as she was sure Vulpes knew, had probably ordered himself. "Maybe," she choked out, deciding to play it safe.

"And you're not enough of a hero to offer yourself to suffer in their place? That seems like the sort of thing you would do. Perhaps I overestimated your capacity for self-sacrifice."

"Or maybe you underestimated how much I hate you. Can you please just get this over with?" Her legs were trembling, she was having trouble holding herself up on her arms, and her vision was blurring.

"In a moment." He pulled her back to him and rubbed her hard until she shuddered and tightened around him, unable to bite back a frantic string of curses as the pleasure took her. "There we go. Don't want to leave you wanting, Courier." He let go of her neck, and his hand came up between her shoulder blades and pinned her down as he thrust with renewed vigor. She tried to shake him off, but he just chuckled darkly and grabbed her hip with his other hand, slamming her back until he came inside her.

After a minute, he rolled off of her, smiling faintly. She tried to avoid his gaze as he tied her feet together, then pulled her to him. She was still naked except for the tattered remnants of her armor.

"Do I not get clothing?"

"Do you think you've earned it?"

 _I'm not falling into another trap._ She stayed silent, and drifted off to sleep.


	9. I Wouldn't Cry For Lost Souls, You Might Drown

At sunrise, he woke her up, cut the ropes on her wrists and ankles, and allowed her to dress in a spare set of merc armor she had in her pack. "Hands behind you."

"Oh, come on. I need my wrist free to check my map on the Pip-Boy."

"I'll watch it. I clearly can't trust you with the use of your hands." She started to protest, and he cut her off. "Do you feel inclined to argue, or do you want to get going? If we start walking now, we can end our journey and go our separate ways by nightfall. If you insist on making this difficult, we'll have to make camp for another night. Is that something you really want?"

Six mutely put her hands behind her back, seething in rage as he tied them. _Fifteen hours more. I can put up with this for fifteen hours, if it means I can walk away at the end and go home. I can put up with anything if I get to see my friends again._

Twelve hours later, it was abundantly clear that they weren't going to make it in time. Vulpes had set a fast pace, but as they roamed further south, they faced an unexpected obstacle in the form of NCR patrols. They'd had to deviate off their course significantly, a fact that pleased neither of them.

"What are they even doing out here?" Vulpes asked. They'd had to reverse their tracks yet again to avoid a ranger encampment. "Is there nothing more pressing going on? We have a giant army knocking at their door to the south; what's so important about some scrub brush west of Shady Sands?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're looking for their train."

"Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten that I'm still furious at you for that."

"And I'm still mad at you for the stunt with that electronic pulse weapon. What did you guys do with that, anyway?"

"There were a few controllers. I keep one around," he said, shrugging. "You never know when someone else might have a robot army."

"So is there any way we can stop running in the other direction whenever we see the NCR? They don't know who you are, remember? And you're in disguise. You're just a ranger lost in the woods."

"A ranger lost in the woods, smelling like explosives, with two packs full of weapons and a rather notorious bound prisoner. I think they'd figure it out quickly. And since you threatened to scream if I tried to shoot them, we don't have many other options. I'm not going to die in an NCR prison."

"As if they'd even keep you alive long enough for that," she said smugly.

"As if they'd even keep _either_ of us alive long enough, you mean. Unless you've heard something about General Oliver coming to his senses and realizing that you're more use to them alive than dead, then we've both bought ourselves one-way tickets to getting a bullet in the back of our heads. Why did you ever think it would be a good idea to ally yourself with such craven idiots?"

"Kimball will listen to reason." She had to keep telling herself that.

"Good luck getting to talk to him," he snorted. "We would have never been dumb enough to betray you if you'd joined our side."

"Are you going to start up with this shit again?" she said, with a deep sigh. "Because the one thing that was really missing from this day was one of your interminable 'why-didn't-you-join-the-Legion' lectures. Even if I were inclined to change my views, it's too late for that. I can't see Caesar accepting an apology and granting me and my friends a pardon."

"Why not?"

She stopped and stared at him. "Seriously? You expect me to believe that?"

"My Lord can be compassionate. Surrender and see what happens."

"Surrender and see what happens?" she scoffed. "That's the worst idea I've ever heard. And you're talking to someone who once had a revenge plan that was just the word REVENGE written in capital letters on a piece of paper."

"I'm going to assume that I was the target of that."

"Don't flatter yourself." She paused. "You might have been. I forget."

"It must be difficult to have so many revenge plans that you can't remember who you're meant to be getting revenge on," he teased. "Maybe you should keep a chart. Or go for less vengeance. It doesn't seem to be working out very well for you, does it?"

"You're in a surprisingly good mood."

"Well, I had a good night," he said, smirking.

"At least one of us did."

Two hours later, his patience finally snapped. They had somehow gotten themselves trapped in between three separate NCR encampments, and he'd unilaterally decided that the only way out was through the farthest one to the east, the one that would be unlikely to alert either of the others if they were attacked. Six had predictably disagreed, and a brief argument was followed by an even briefer scuffle. Which was why the Courier was now bound hand and foot, gagged, and propped up against a tree twenty feet away. He had to admire her sheer persistence in trying to attack him when her hands were tied, all in defense of people who had been planning on assassinating her. Another reminder that intelligence and common sense were not the same thing, and were often mutually exclusive.

He looked through his binoculars. _Two rangers and one trooper. The latter looks new, and weak. I might want to get him alive if I can and see what he knows._ The rangers, however, would have to go. They were always horrible interrogation subjects. It was easier to kill them on sight. He crept closer, wishing that either of them had some sort of sniper rifle in their bags. A good pistol could work wonders, but it would have been better to take them out from their original position.

They were talking, and he pressed himself into a crevice so he could listen in. These campfire tales were often excellent sources of information. The oldest ranger spoke first. "Never would have believed it of them. I met her once, you know, at the Outpost. Seemed like a decent sort. I never would have expected her to be hanging out with Legion spies."

 _This is an unsettling development. How did they find out we were traveling together?_ He hit the switch on his holotape recorder, wanting to preserve this evidence."Well, he's dead now, and his whore will be soon, if Kimball has anything to say about it," said the second ranger. _Wait, what?_ "He's already swinging from a noose in Shady Sands, and the rest of them will join him the moment they're caught. Lot of stinking traitors, all of them." _Oh, right, Marcus._

"Even the Courier?" asked the young trooper.

"Especially her," the second ranger said. "She defeated everyone and claimed the Dam for her own, then scarpered when the Legion swept into Vegas. Sure, I heard they captured her and made her a slave, but I bet she'd been working with them the whole time. She was probably drinking whiskey and fucking Caesar himself every night." He felt his anger rise. "And now she shows up here, with a guerrilla army, saying she's on our side? I don't buy it. Not that we should be thinking too much about this. Orders are orders. Hang her with the other traitors."

The trooper chuckled. "We might as well enjoy ourselves with her first, too, if we capture those Legion whores. Get them back for what they've done to our female rangers they've caught. It's no more than they deserve." The others laughed.

The first ranger went down immediately with a bullet to his throat. The second one was smart enough to turn away, but ended up shot in the back of the head for his trouble. That left the trooper. He'd started back towards their main tent, making a beeline for the radios, when Vulpes tackled him from behind. He hit the young man with the butt of his pistol, stunning him, then dragged him outside the tent and slammed him upright against a pole. He tied him tightly, making sure he was well-gagged and that no reinforcements were coming, and shuffled through the pockets of the dead rangers, finding what he was looking for. He returned to Six, who was looking mutinous.

Vulpes slipped the gag out of her mouth. She'd realized that screaming would do her no good; anyone within earshot was dead. "You killed those rangers!"

"The ones that killed Marcus?" She sat there, stunned. "I won't pretend I'm upset about that, but apparently the NCR hanged him in Shady Sands a few days back." He pulled out the holotape he'd made of their conversation, inserted it into her Pip-Boy, and watched as her face went from disbelief to shock to rage. He held a piece of paper close enough so she could read it. "And here are some direct orders to kill you and all your other friends, listed by name. Signed by Kimball himself, I see. They call you an 'anarchist terrorist organization.' Somehow I don't think they're going to be accepting your help in the upcoming battle."

"Marcus ..." she thought of how Cass must be feeling.

"I captured one alive. Want to go talk to him?"

"Sure," Six said numbly.

He cut the ropes loose and they walked into the camp. Six carefully avoided staring at the dead rangers. Vulpes, feeling no such restraint, happily looted their bodies for weapons, ammo and chems. Then they approached the scared young trooper tied to a pole. Vulpes pulled a straight razor from his coat.

"You're not serious." He gave her an amused look.

"Did you think we were going to have a nice long conversation? Maybe make him some coffee? This is what I do. Don't watch if you can't handle it."

" _Don't._ Please. Don't torture him."

"Is this one of your moral lines in the sand? I assure you it'll be more pleasant than what they had planned for you, Miss Cassidy and Miss Santangelo." Their captive's eyes widened as he recognized Six. Vulpes cut through the trooper's gag. "Would you like to tell my traveling companion here what exactly you wanted to do with her and the other … what was it you called them … _Legion whores?"_

The trooper looked away but didn't bother to deny it. Six's eyes hardened. "Do what you want with him," she said. "I don't care."

She turned and walked back to the tree, hearing his voice behind her. "Hello, NCR profligate. I am Vulpes Inculta, left hand of the true Lord of the West, Caesar, and I sincerely hope you can tell me what I want to know. Talk now and I'll cut your throat quickly. Be stubborn, and I'll have plenty of fun, but I can assure you that you won't."

Sitting behind the tree, Six watched the sun set in the west as Vulpes began his gruesome work. Her head was filled with a dull buzzing sensation. _Marcus is dead. He betrayed the Legion, came hundreds of miles across the desert to rescue us, and ended up executed by the people he was fighting against in the first place. The ones we were all trying so hard to help._ At least this explained why they were now officially considered traitors, rather than just being the targets of a conspiracy. Bringing a Legion spy into the heart of the NCR, particularly after having spent months in captivity, was fairly damning evidence against them. She hoped he hadn't given up the location of Vault 15 before he died. _The NCR doesn't torture, right? Or is that another one of their principles that they've abandoned in order to try to win?_

She'd drifted off to a disturbed sleep when Vulpes returned to her, now shirtless and covered in blood. He doused himself with several bottles of water, changed into mercenary armor, and sat down beside her.

"Did you find out anything?" she asked.

"The NCR caught Marcus on a mission, far away from your base. He had actually been burning some of our supplies, but one of the rangers recognized him from a skirmish a few years back, and that was that. They hung him and the other Avenger who was with him in the public square in Shady Sands. He didn't give them any useful information, if that's what you're wondering."

Something in her head had begun screaming warning signs at her, but with her mind in its frazzled state, she couldn't figure out what it was. "Anything else?"

"Nothing I'm willing to share. How's that noble goal looking now? Reconsidering surrender?"

Six couldn't believe she was about to ask this question. "What … what deal are you offering? If we were to surrender. Not that we're going to."

"I can't offer a deal. Only Caesar can. However, I'm sure he would be amenable to, say, an order of exile for your three remaining friends. He was willing to offer it to you if you'd won in the arena, so I don't think that it would be too difficult to persuade him. After all, he owes Dr. Gannon a favor."

"He only said that because he knew I would lose." She paused. "What do you mean about Arcade?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did he seriously not tell you? Well, it's not my place to gossip. Let's say you're not the only person who might be willing to sacrifice thousands to save themselves and a few others."

 _The fuck? I'm going to have to ask Arcade about that, if I ever manage to get back._ She spat, "I'm not _sacrificing_ anyone. I'm trying to consider ways out of fighting in a war where both sides want us dead. Does the exile offer apply to me as well?"

"Let's see. You lost us the Dam, you killed Lanius, you tried to kill me, you tried to kill Lucius, you _did_ kill hundreds of legionaries, you escaped from Vegas, you exposed our entire spy network, and you just blew up our train yesterday. What do you think?"

"I'm guessing … no? But my friends are complicit in just about everything you listed there, so I _suspect_ the real reason I wouldn't be offered exile is because _you_ don't want me to have it."

"Well, that too." She glared at him. "It's still the best offer you're going to get. I can promise no manual labor, and no kitchen duty, for obvious reasons. I have plenty of books. You can have a good life."

"A good life, being fucked by my worst enemy each night? Wearing a collar and chains? Being shared with other legionaries as you please? Being used as _breeding stock_?" she snarled.

He didn't deny any of it. "But your friends would be free."

"They're not going to buy that. Even to save their own skins. We all go down together; we agreed on that before the Dam." _Except that half of the people I promised that to are dead already. Because of this. Because of me._ Suddenly overcome, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

He seemed at a loss for words. "Um … is there anything I can get you? You're going to draw more reinforcements."

She turned to look at him. "Vulpes." He recoiled slightly, and she realized that she rarely, if ever, called him his name to his face. She reached up and touched his hair, running her fingers down to his jawline.

"Did you make another knife or something?" he asked, tense. "Whatever you're planning won't work."

"Just … I need to forget. To think about something else. Just for a while. Please. _Please,_ Vulpes. Make me forget."

He was still suspicious, but as her hand trailed across his chest, then lower, he smiled and pushed her onto her back, mouth hot against her own. "If the lady insists."


	10. Emotional Rescue

Some time later, when the dust had cleared and they had dressed, he said, "Your Pip-Boy shows there's a cave over there, further to the east. I'll clear it out and mine it, and we can stay there tonight. I think you need to get some real sleep. You're acting unusual, even for you."

They made their way to the marked cave. She sat in one of the antechambers and stared at her Pip-Boy, idly looking through all the menus, while gunfire and animalistic squeals erupted from the depths. She stared at the map, wishing she could use it to teleport away. Back home to Vault 15 … Vault 15 … the sirens that had been blaring in her head earlier returned with a vengeance, and suddenly she knew what had set them off. She jumped up and ran into the caves, after Vulpes.

"You couldn't wait until I came and got you?" he asked when she finally caught up with him, pumping one last volley of gunfire into a dying animal. "I could have been mining this place, and you'd be a fine red mist by now. Do you know if yao guai are edible? I've never killed one before, but we haven't eaten all day and it would be a shame to let this go to waste." He looked at her, noticing her eyes were burning in anger, beneath the puffy red lids. "What?"

" _You know where we're hiding,"_ she hissed.

"Yes, we're hiding in this cave. Other than that, I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Earlier. You said that Marcus was 'far away from our base.' I have it marked on my Pip-Boy, the one you've been checking for me. _You know."_

"To be fair, I knew before I even saw your Pip-Boy," he said lightly. "That's one of the three things everyone knows about the Courier. Got shot in the head, tends to use excessive violence, and loves exploring Vaults. And two of our operatives trailed Miss Cassidy back from Shady Sands."

"And you haven't attacked us."

"In a _Vault?_ I'm not interested in losing half an army mounting a fruitless assault against a steel door and a bunch of turrets. We can always come back with explosives, when the war is over."

"You won't get away with this." Six wasn't sure why she was so angry, other than having the concept of the last safe place for her and her friends ripped away from her.

"I won't get away with _not attacking you?_ Have you gone completely insane in the past few hours? Not that I was complaining about the first part; you could stand to lose your mind like that more often. But I'm not going to drag some irrational lunatic screaming about revenge and Vaults across what's beginning to feel like half of California."

"Six?" yelled a distant voice. They both froze.

"Let me see the map," he whispered, grabbing her wrist. He stared at it for a few seconds, then pushed her away. "Does this thing let them _track you?"_

"Six? Are you here?" This was close enough that she could identify it as Veronica.

"Don't hurt them," she said, hardly daring to make a sound. His gun was pointed towards the entrance to their chamber. Any minute now, one of her friends would stumble in, and then they'd all be dead.

She was surprised when he tossed her pack at her. "I can get back to the road from here on my own in a couple of hours. _Go._ If anyone walks into this chamber after you leave, I'll kill them. So I suggest you make sure that doesn't happen."

Six didn't have to hear _that_ twice. Scooping her up bag, she sprinted out of the cave, up to the waiting light, up to where her friends were loudly trying to figure out why her Pip-Boy was tracking her to a deserted hill. Arcade, Veronica and Cass, the latter's eyes red with tears. _Oh God, finally._ She ran up, yelling various happy profanities, and hugged Cass as tightly as she could stand.

"Cass. I'm so sorry. I heard about Marcus. I'm so … this is my fault."

"It's the fucking NCR's fault, is who it is. You heard their radio broadcast? 'Legion spies' and 'traitors to the Republic,' my _ass._ Six, what are we going to do?"

"Can we head back before anything else awful happens?" She glanced towards the cave. "I'm exhausted, and I can't even think about our next steps until I get at least ten hours of solid rest."

"You're also dirty, bloody, and smell like explosives," Arcade said. "Wait, did you get shot in your arm? What happened to your armor? What were you _doing_ up here, Six? We decided to come get you when we heard about Marcus because we were worried the NCR would get you too, this close to Shady Sands, but it looks like trouble found you anyway."

"Oh, right," she said, smiling faintly. She'd almost forgotten about her little victory. It had felt like a lifetime ago. "I blew up a train."

"For a reason, or just … because?" Veronica asked.

"Because it was full of legionaries. It's a long story." She thought for a moment. "No, actually, that's pretty much it. Let's get walking."

"Noooo, no, no," Arcade said. "First off, we rented a caravan to take us here, so all we have to do is make it to the road and we can ride back in style, and more importantly, safe from any prying NCR eyes. And second, you look awful. We need to find someplace to treat that wound. I think there's a cave down there."

" _Don't go into the cave!"_ she yelled, then collected herself when they stared at her. "I was trying to hide in there for the night, but it's full of fucking deathclaws. I think it's a breeding ground. I made it this far, I can walk to the damned caravan. Where is it?"

"A little bit to the southwest," said Veronica.

"Try not to go directly west of here. There are a few NCR encampments, and they probably won't be happy to see us."

They headed south, but after Cass saw a plume of smoke on the horizon and immediately ran right at it, they ended up detouring to the ruins of the NCR camp Vulpes had destroyed hours ago. She wasn't surprised to see that he'd managed to string up the trooper he'd tortured and killed on a telephone pole, nor that he had set the place on fire and smashed the communications equipment, but the spray-painted graffiti was an unwelcome touch.

"They don't do anything halfway, do they?" Cass asked. "I almost have to admire that. Better than stabbing people in the back, like those other fucks."

"We're at least fifty miles away from the nearest Legion encampment," Veronica said. "We're right to the southwest of Shady Sands. Where did they come from? That train Six blew up?"

"This is recent," Arcade said, looking at the bodies. "Really recent, like last few hours recent. I think we should go, now."

"I agree with Arcade," Six said. The whole scene, and her participation in it, was making her nauseated. What the hell had she been thinking?

They headed due south, Cass and Veronica taking point. Arcade and Six trailed behind. He asked her if she needed some Med-X for her arm once they reached the caravan, and she gratefully accepted his offer. "I've been shot a lot before, but this one really stings for some reason."

"So why didn't you use the Med-X in your pack?"

"Um … I couldn't get to my pack."

"Six? What's really going on here? You blew up a train, right, I got that. It does seem like something you'd do. But that doesn't explain the gunshot wound. You _never_ leave your pack behind, anywhere. You have bruises, and not blowing-up-a-train bruises, someone-tried-to-strangle-me bruises. And you didn't exactly seem surprised at that NCR camp back there. Did you kill them and frame the Legion? I mean, smart thinking, but it does seem kind of gratuitous."

"I'll explain it all to you when we get back to the Vault. I can't even think right now." She glanced ahead, where Cass and Vero were happily chatting about what they'd do to Kimball when they got ahold of him. Throwing him into the arena versus Caesar sounded good to her. "Just you and me."

Within half an hour, they made it to their caravan and climbed in, exhausted. Cass had forged fake identification papers for them, so they were able to take the quickest route back to the Vault, despite Cass's sudden desire to lob a mini-nuke at all of the NCR waystations they had to pass by. _And people think I'm all about revenge? The Legion should just try capturing Cass. She'd have the camp in flames within hours._ When they arrived at sunrise, Beatrix, who had been given watch over the gate, let them in. Six stumbled through the halls, everyone staring at her, until she unlocked her bedroom and fell face-first onto the mattress. She'd passed out before her head was even on the pillow.


	11. No One Here Gets Out Alive

"Morning, bitch! It's five in the afternoon, so I figured it was time to get you up. Can't sleep the remainder of our shortened lives away."

Six glared at Cass, who had tossed a set of clothing at her face. "You're awfully chipper." Her expression softened. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I'll never be okay again," Cass said. "It hurts, constantly. Especially knowing that if I'd never met him, he'd still be alive. But every time I think about him, I start crying and dissolve into a useless puddle, and I'm not any good to anyone in that condition. So I'm taking the pain and turning it into a ball of rage, which I will then fire onto my enemies."

"That's not a healthy coping mechanism, Cass."

"And yours is?"

"Pretty much the same. Which is why I know it's not healthy."

"Like any of us is going to live long enough to die of a heart attack." Her voice was flat. "Arcade said to take a shower, get dressed, and he'll be up in fifteen minutes with some food. Then we're having a meeting downstairs, first just us four, then everyone, to figure out what we want to do."

After Cass left, Six tore off her filthy armor, making a note to burn it later. She took a long, hot shower, then looked at herself in the mirror. She frowned at the bruises on her neck and her long, tangled hair. _Might be time for a change._ Finding a pair of scissors in a storage trunk, she set to work on her hair, turning it into a serviceable pixie cut. _I should have done this a long time ago. It feels like my head can breathe again. Pretty cute, too!_

"What are you doing to your hair?" Arcade asked from the doorway. She hadn't even noticed him walking in. "Is this like in one of those old novels, where the heroine goes crazy and starts shearing off her hair while crying and giggling? Are you going to punch a mirror and scream that you're not pretty anymore next?"

"I'm just sick of long hair. It's a pain in the ass to put it in a bun, it's always getting dirty, and people keep using it to drag me across the ground." Another thought came to her. "Oh, and no one realizes I've cut my hair! So they might not recognize me on sight."

"That's not a bad idea, Six," Arcade conceded. "And it does look good. I'm glad you did it. And equally glad that you didn't come to me. Despite all the stereotypes, I am not adept at styling women's hair. I brought you food and some medicine to heal that gunshot wound. How about you tell me what happened in the woods?"

"Are you sure? It contains scenes of graphic violence, profanity and adult content."

She told him a brief and slightly edited version of the story, leaving out the idea of surrendering, which she couldn't bring herself to even mention to Arcade. She ended up breaking down in tears anyway. "And so he said he was going to torture the trooper for information, and after what I'd heard on the holotape, I just said 'Do what you want with him, I don't care'! And then he burned the camp down and fucked me beside it, while the trooper was still dying on the cross! Am I really that corrupt, am I that messed up in the in the head, that I couldn't even _try_ to stop it?"

He held onto her until she stopped crying. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"No," she admitted. "But I'm not any less okay than I've been for the past year. My life has been constantly not-okay since the Securitrons deactivated. I just … what are we going to _do,_ Arcade? We're completely fucked. Any way you look at it, we're completely fucked. We can't even stay here and hide anymore, not after the war is over, since they know where we are."

"Well, we'll talk it out with Vero and Cass downstairs. I'm sure someone will come up with an idea." He sighed. "Do you ever wish we'd just sided with the NCR at the Dam? I know you did before, but do you still think that?"

"Yes. Constantly. We'd have thrown in our lot with a bunch of two-faced bastards, but at least we wouldn't have a price on our heads. At this point, I'd have sided with the fucking Legion, Arcade, so you know exactly how bad things have gotten. My moral standards are pretty much in shreds at this point. I'd sell my soul to the Devil himself if it would get us out of this mess."

That reminded her. "Arcade, what happened in Vegas before I got there? What did you do for Caesar? Let's put all our cards on the table now. I think I deserve to know the truth."

"Okay, but it doesn't make me look very good," he said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Caesar was dying, Six. He had a brain tumor. Benign, but enough to cause complications. So they grabbed me, said I had to do the surgery or they'd kill all of you in front of me. And I was dumb enough to believe that you guys would be safe if I did it. This could have been _over_ , if I'd just made one wrong cut, and I couldn't. Thousands of people have died, because I was a coward."

"You did what you had to do to try and save us," she said. "It's not your fault that they're evil. And killing Caesar wouldn't have done anything, not really. It wouldn't have stopped the war. They've got a whole line of succession. Whoever replaced him would have probably been worse."

"Forgive me?"

"There's nothing that needs to be forgiven, Arcade. God, you heard what I did before. I'm not in any position to judge anyone for their fucked-up behavior in fucked-up situations. Ready to go downstairs and admit that we don't have a clue what to do next?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Want some whiskey in that Nuka-Cola? It might make this meeting easier."

"Yes, please. If we survive this I'm going to become an alcoholic, just for fun. Maybe a jet addict, too."

As Six had expected, none of them had a workable plan. Cass suggested just going out into the battle and killing whoever they got their hands on first, which was quickly vetoed as pointless. Veronica had a vague idea about seeking refuge with the Brotherhood of Steel, but with the nearest bunker hundreds of miles away, they couldn't figure out a way to get there. Arroyo was out, since they were wanted by the NCR. Staying in the Vault was out, since the Legion knew where it was.

"Okay, let's go back to basics," Arcade sighed. "Who's going to win? Who do we want to win? What do we want out of all this? Do we want safety or revenge?"

"I think the Legion's going to win," Veronica said. "Especially if they're able to attack from the north. Shady Sands is a city of relatively pampered civilians. Once they get through the NCR's best, it'll be like a knife through butter."

"Anyone disagree?" No one did. "Okay. Who do we want to win?"

"Us?" Cass volunteered. "Really, I don't want either of them to win. Drop a nuke on the whole mess and let God sort it out."

"We're damned either way," Six said. "If the NCR wins, regardless if we help them or not, they'll execute us. If the Legion wins, they'll execute us if we're lucky, and I'm not feeling very lucky lately. But I don't think we should be fighting for the NCR just because they'll kill us less painfully. That's a terrible reason to die."

"I don't even know if the NCR winning would be better for the world," Veronica said. "The Legion is overexpanding. If they get beaten here, they'll just go back and lick their wounds, then try again in a few years. If they win, they'll keep going north, stretch themselves too thin and go down in flames. Empires tend to do that."

"Is it our job to make that call?" Arcade asked.

"Does anyone really, _really_ think that we're going to make a damn bit of difference once the shooting starts?" Cass snarled. "We've got thirty people, maybe ten of whom would do well in combat. Other than that, we're good at infiltration and quick attacks. If we go up against anyone in a fair fight, we're going to get beaten down."

"So … last question. Do we care about safety, or vengeance?"

"Vengeance," all four of them said simultaneously. Arcade laughed. "At least we agree on that."

"No one here at this table is getting out alive," Cass said. "So we might as well get our revenge."

Something was forming in Six's head, a plan, half-baked, cobbled together from bits and pieces of their conversation. She couldn't tell any of them the full extent, might not ever be able to tell them, until it was too late. But she could lay the groundwork.

"Whatever we do, I think we need to send everyone else away once the fighting starts," Six said. "Like Cass mentioned, half the people in here can't fight, and they'll be sitting ducks for whoever wins. Once the battle breaks out, Swank and a few of the other combat-ready guys can escort everyone up to Vault 13 using the northwest route. No one will notice a group of refugees in all that mess."

"They're not going to like that," Veronica said.

"Tough luck. We bought our ticket to this ride when we busted out of Vegas. But I'm not letting anyone innocent die because of us."


	12. Divide and Conquer

As Veronica had predicted, the rest of the Vegas Avengers were not fans of being sent to Vault 13, but were somewhat placated when Six promised them that they could continue taking potshots and harassing the Legion right up until the main event. They still didn't know what they were going to do during the battle – _officially, anyway, I've got some idea –_ but at least their friends would be safe.

They threw themselves into their work, taking out legionaries wherever they could find them, disrupting supplies, even freeing a few slaves, who were very confused to find themselves suddenly being liberated by what they'd recently heard was a terrorist organization. Six gave them some weapons and pointed them north. Every day, the news on the radio was becoming more and more depressing. The Legion had taken Junktown. The Legion had slaughtered and enslaved groups of refugees. The Legion was coming. Twenty miles from Shady Sands now, and the NCR was throwing everything they had up to the city. The newsman on the radio could see the fires burning.

"It's almost time," Arcade said to Six one day. "We have a couple of weeks, at most. Have we figured anything out?"

"I … sort of have an idea, but you're not going to like it." Arcade frowned. They were interrupted by a buzzing on the intercom. Beatrix's voice crackled to life.

"Boss, someone's here to see you."

 _What the hell?_ "Who is it?" Six asked.

"Legion."

"What, all of them?" said Arcade. "They traditionally aren't nice enough to knock."

"Sorry, boss," Beatrix said. "A legionary. I was going to take him out with the turrets, but he's got a white flag and he looks like he's too young to even be carrying a spear. He says he's got a message for you from Caesar. Should I patch him through?"

"Should we tell him that we're not accepting any obvious traps today?" asked Veronica, who had walked into their war room, bearing a fresh pot of coffee. "I can't imagine that this will be anything good. We should just kill him."

"Eh, I don't feel right, killing a kid with a white flag," Six said. "Don't let him in, of course, Beatrix, but we can hear him out on the radio."

Cass followed Veronica into the room. "Oh, this should be interesting."

"I come bearing a message from Caesar, son of Mars, conqueror of the 97 tribes, true ruler of the -"

Six pressed the talk button and interrupted him. "You're up to 97 now? Cut the introductions, we know who you're talking about. Say what you came to say."

"He offers terms of surrender." Six rolled her eyes. _Fucking hell, Vulpes had to pursue that, didn't he? This is going to lead to a huge argument, and we don't have time for huge arguments right now._

Cass pressed the button. "Ours, or his?"

"Good one," mouthed Veronica.

"This is an official pardon." The kid had obviously decided to ignore their comments. "My Lord hereby pledges to spare the lives of Veronica Santangelo, Arcade Gannon, and Rose of Sharon Cassidy, and to send them into exile far from the Legion's reach, unharmed."

Everyone looked surprised. "Wait for it ..." muttered Six.

"If the three individuals named above and the profligate woman known as Courier Six surrender themselves to the nearest legionary camp and submit to Caesar's justice, and turn over all weaponry and intelligence that they may have gathered."

"And there's the catch." Veronica pushed the talk button. "Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Do not be hasty. I have left the documents under a rock by your door, for you to review at your leisure. This generous offer remains open until the commencement of hostilities with the New California Republic in the city limits of Shady Sands. Should you choose to fight against us, it will be rescinded. Consider this your warning. I would estimate you have about two weeks. Vale, Courier."

Everyone was silent for a few minutes, until Beatrix came back on the line. "Beatrix, when the exterior is clear, could you send someone to retrieve the documents lying under a rock, and bring them to us?" Six asked.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?" asked Cass.

"A fairly obvious attempt to divide us," Arcade said. "If he was offering pardons for all of us, then even I'd be thinking about it. But he specifically only promised safety for me, you and Vero. Six's name wasn't on the pardon list, but it was on the surrender one. It's trading her life for ours."

"Maybe he misspoke," said Veronica. "Maybe she has a pardon too."

"We'll check the documents, but I don't think so. I had a feeling this was coming," Six said. Arcade quirked an eyebrow at her. "Vulpes mentioned something along those lines, and he specifically said that I wasn't included because of the magnitude of my crimes or some other lame excuse. I didn't tell you about it because I wanted to forestall the argument that we're about to have as long as possible."

"What argument?" Veronica asked.

"This one," Six said. "I think we should consider the deal."

The other three stared at her. "You can't be serious," Arcade said. "After all that – after everything –"

"This is the best offer we're going to get. It's the _only_ offer we're going to get that lets anyone walk out of this alive. If we fight and lose, _which we will,_ then we're all going to die, or worse."

"Fuck that," Cass snapped. "Remember what you said back in the 38, before the Dam? We will all go together when we go, or something like that? We're not going to walk in there and lay down our weapons to watch you get dragged away to -"

Six slammed her fist on the table. "To what? _Something that's going to happen anyway._ I have been explicitly told, more than once _,_ what exactly is going to happen to me when I get caught."

"Then don't fucking get caught, Six!" yelled Cass. "We can take out as many of them as possible and run away when they get too close -"

"Or you guys can get the hell out of here alive!" Six said. She knew that this was a long shot, but she felt like she had to at least try. "Come back to get me when you have an army, if you have to. How do you not see that this is the best option?"

"This is probably all a lie, anyway," Veronica said. "We'd be stupid to trust them."

"I think it's genuine," Arcade said quietly. "The Legion has few positive qualities, but honesty is one of them. Caesar despises lying. If this comes from him, it's real. For what it's worth."

"It's not worth anything!" said Cass, eyes blazing. "Are you on her side now, Arcade?"

"Of course not," Arcade said. "Six, you can stop trying to logically explain why this is the best idea, because even if it is, we're not going to do it. I'd rather be on a cross with the three of you next to me than sleeping in a feather bed knowing that I walked out of a Legion camp and left you there behind. I was there in Vegas, remember? God, throwing you into that again … I'd have to hurl myself off the nearest cliff. So unless you're planning on knocking us all out and dragging us away to surrender, you can cut this out."

"Let's make it official. Who votes nay?" Veronica, Cass and Arcade all raised their hands. "Three to one, Six," Veronica said smugly. "Democracy in action."

"Fine," said Six, still seething. "But if you won't do that, then you need to consider my other plan."

"You have another plan?" asked Cass.

"I was about to talk to Arcade about it. But I warn you, you're not going to like it." She paused. "You'll probably like it more than the surrendering one."

"So let's hear it," said Arcade. "Get the bad part out of the way first."

"The bad part is that we need to split up." Everyone began to protest, and Six raised her hand. "No, guys! Listen! This requires two groups. The first group, which I recommend consists of Arcade and Veronica, needs to deliver a message for me. It's an incredibly dangerous journey, so don't be worried that I'm sending you off to safety and tossing myself into the proverbial meat grinder. Arcade, I've got the coordinates and the message programmed into the Pip-Boy, which I'm going to give to you. You need to go to that location and somehow get them to let you in the door. Keep an ear on the radio, deliver the message, and ask him to do it at midnight, at least a week after Shady Sands falls. No sooner than one week. If you teach me how to use the computer to track you down, I'll meet you when it's over."

"When what's over?" Veronica asked.

"I … can't tell you. I want to, but I can't. If you get caught, you need to not know anything, anything that you can give up if things go badly. Because if the Legion finds out about this, we might as well hand them the keys to the East Coast, too. I'm not exaggerating when I say that thousands of people will die if they know." _And if you knew what you were doing, you'd never agree to do it._

"Why can't Cass and Vero go, and I'll stay here and fight with you?" Arcade asked.

"Because your part will require some diplomacy, which is not Cass's strong suit."

"And in the meantime you and I will … what? File our nails? Braid our hair? Tell campfire stories?" Cass said.

"We've got the most important part of all, Cass," Six said, smiling. "We're going to bait a trap."


	13. 'Cause I Have Friends, And That's A Fact

A week later, they sent the Vegas Avengers to Vault 13. Six was sad to see them go. Without the hustle and bustle of having other people around, they had nothing else to fixate on but the impending fight.

"This is one of the worst plans I've ever heard," said Arcade grumpily. "Vero and I don't even know what we're doing, and you and Cass are planning to get caught on purpose by the Legion for reasons that _you won't tell us about."_

"I told you, we're not going to _stay_ prisoners," Cass said. "We're going to break out. We just have something that we need to do first. And then we'll all make it out, and meet up with you, and form our own country or something. I'm planning on calling it the Autocracy of Casstonia. We're going to keep only the sexiest men as slaves, and then only so we can have them feed us grapes and rub our feet. And make our beds, because I hate doing that. We'll punish lawbreakers by forcing them to do stand-up comedy in public. The streets will run red with strawberry ice cream."

Cass was, not surprisingly, a big fan of Six's new plan, mostly because it allowed her the opportunity for unbridled violence. She'd thrown herself whole hog into preparation, cutting her long red hair into a fierce mohawk and dying it jet black. Cass had joined the Vegas Avengers who had NCR connections on their trips into Shady Sands to hide the things that they needed to be hidden and get a good feel for the place. And she and Six had been training hard in lockpicking, science and explosives.

"I still don't like it," Arcade said.

"You know the agreement," said Six, exasperated. "If anyone can come up with a different plan that does _not_ result in all of our deaths, we'll reconsider."

"If I can think up anything before we have to go, you guys will be the first to know," Veronica said. "Might I add that I'm with Arcade? I don't like this either. I'd feel a lot better if we knew your side of the story. Because so far it sounds like you're just going to run off into the fray, get caught, and hope you don't die immediately."

Six looked at Cass, who nodded imperceptibly. "Now that it's just us four, would it ease your mind if we let you in on our part of the mission? I still can't say anything about your half. You know why. But the only reason we couldn't tell you our side was because I didn't want anything known outside our little group, just in case something happens."

"Yes," said both Arcade and Veronica.

"So, here's how it's going to work," Six said. "We're going to start sniping at the Legion forces late in the battle, once it's already over. We'll take out as many as we can and then we're going to split up and let ourselves get caught. Cass here will act like just another scared civilian. They'll toss us into a slave pen and then within a few days, when everything is settled, they'll hold an auction. In the meantime, Cass will have picked the locks on most of the chains with this key, which she'll be hiding in a place best left unmentioned." Six pulled out a weathered key from her pocket. "I grabbed it off those Legion slavers we killed a few weeks back and made sure that it works on the manacles of their slaves. We made copies, too. If we have to, we'll unlock the explosive collars, but that will let them know something is up. So I've figured out how to deactivate them. Most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Veronica asked. "I don't think that'll be very comforting to anyone whose head gets blown off."

"It's not a perfect idea, but we have to make do," Six said. "So the slaves will have unlocked chains and non-functioning collars. When they open the door to inspect us the night before the auction, we'll rush them. They try not to pull guns during that because Caesar is afraid that someone will turn it into a massacre and they'll lose all their valuable prizes, so they'll have machetes. We'll beat them down, take their guns, and then get a lot _more_ guns, which we've been stashing around Shady Sands for the past few weeks in the hopes that one of them will be close enough to wherever they're going to hold the slaves. Presto. Instant army, just add weapons."

"And then we're going to kill everyone!" said Cass happily.

"No, we're not, Cass," she sighed. "We've been over that. A bunch of civilian women aren't going to be able to beat the Legion. But there'll be more than enough NCR rangers in that group that we can put up a fight. We're going to kill whoever gets in our way, and then we're going to get the hell out of there with all the slaves, into the hills. We need to be gone by a few days afterwards, or our plan will … conflict with yours."

"Okay," said Arcade, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. "So that sounds good on paper, aside from being totally insane and unlikely to work, but that's about par for the course for every plan we've come up with. You do realize that this is entirely dependent on none of them recognizing either of you, right? You're enemy number one, Six. New haircut or not, if any of the leaders see you, they'll know who you are immediately. Why don't you two just stay in here, and we'll come back for you when we finish?"

"Once again, Arcade, _they know where we are._ We've been over this. All they'd need to do is send, like, ten legionaries to hang out by the front door, and we'd be stuck inside until either we surrender or they come back with C4. And I've got a backup plan in case one of us gets found out." Six bit her lip. "And ... we can't walk away. I'm not a fan of the NCR right now, but damn it, we worked with them for years. Half their army is women. And Shady Sands is _big._ My conscience can't let all those people die, or worse, if there's a way out of it."

They sat in uncomfortable silence. No one was really happy, but they couldn't think of anything else.

"I have to bring it up one more time. Have you guys reconsidered -" Six started.

"Surrendering? Still no. This plan of yours might be dependent on us having all the luck in the world, but it's still better than that," Veronica said. The others nodded their heads.

"So … who wants one last roll in the hay?" Cass asked. Looking at their expressions, she clarified, "I'm kidding, guys. Since only one of the four of us would enjoy it, it wouldn't be the best use of our time."

Veronica put on an expression of mock outrage. "You don't think you'd _enjoy it?_ Cass, I think you're underestimating how persuasive I can be. You and Six would pledge yourselves to the cult of Sappho before morning. Arcade can … I don't know, offer scathing criticisms of our technique."

"Yes, like 'this would be much more entertaining if everyone involved was a guy,'" said Arcade, rolling his eyes.

Night fell. They ate their dinner and went to bed, as if any of them would be able to sleep. Six listened to the radio and thought about their chances. _Minimal, if I'm being honest with myself. Arcade is right. This plan is full of holes. But we don't really have much to work with. Four people against two armies doesn't allow for much room for error.  
_

The newsman on the radio was sounding scared. The Legion was ten miles out, and the NCR was falling back into the city, fast _._ She and Cass would have to leave tomorrow night at the latest. She downed a shot of vodka to help her relax, and shortly thereafter fell into a restless sleep.

The friends said their goodbyes in the morning, despite Veronica's insistence that it wasn't goodbye, that they'd all see each other again soon. Hugs and promises of drinks when this was all over were exchanged. Six and Arcade were the last to say goodbye, and she held onto him tightly, not wanting to let the man who had been her anchor ever since Vegas go.

"If I don't ever see you again, I love you, Arcade," she said quietly.

"I love you too, Six. But we are going to see each other again." He squeezed her arm tightly, and she felt a stinging pain. She looked up to see him withdrawing a large needle from her forearm. From Cass's yelp, Veronica had done the same to her.

"What the hell? Are you drugging us?" Cass said angrily.

"Of course not," he said, smiling. "It's a tracking chip! Veronica and I have been working on it the past week. We've got them too. It makes us all show up on the Pip-Boy, or on any other Pip-Boy or computer terminal registered in our names. So seriously, we _are_ going to see each other again, because we'll always be able to find the others."

She hugged him again. "Thanks. That's the best gift that anyone has even injected into my arm without my consent."

"I love you so much," he whispered into her ear, stroking her hair. " _Do_ kill them if you have the chance, will you?" He didn't have to say who he meant.

"It won't fix things, you know." It had taken her a while to accept, but revenge, as much as she fantasized about it, couldn't undo what had been done.

"But it'll make us feel better," Arcade said. "And that's enough."


	14. Violence Is A Girl's Best Friend

_Arcade was right. Killing people does make me feel better._

Five days later, she and Cass were set up in their tiny camp in the hills southeast of Shady Sands. They were close enough to the front lines that they could easily take out legionaries with a shot to the head, but far enough away that they couldn't be seen with the naked eye. Fortunately, in the heat of battle, no one had bothered to consider that their comrades were being shot by someone other than the enemy right in front of them.

They'd had to move a few times when the Legion mongrels drew too close, or when the battle shifted further north, They slept in shifts, one person keeping guard while the other napped or hunted down some food in the hills. During the breaks in the battle, when there were no good targets to be found, Six and Cass played Caravan. Six still lost most of the time, but she was winning their other game handily.

"That's thirty-five legionaries for me, and twenty-seven for you, Cass," Six said, drawing another mark on their score sheet, which Cass had titled "Hunting Assholes." "You're going to have to step up your game."

"This is fucking bullshit, and you know it, Six," Cass groused. "We should have assigned points based on rank. Half of yours are recruits, for God's sake. Why did we even waste ammo on them? I took out a frumentarius the other day! One you knew from Vegas! What was his name again?"

"Gabban, and while I'm thankful that you killed someone who could recognize us, it doesn't change the score," Six said evenly. "Tell you what. You take down any of the top three targets, and you win automatically, okay? We can even scavenge up some whiskey and have a party." Cass had cut down on her drinking during their time in the Vault, but sometimes an incentive was good.

"Like they're going to be anywhere near the front lines," Cass said bitterly. "Not that I see Kimball or Oliver out here, either. They've probably snuck out the back door and are hiding somewhere nice and safe while recording propaganda messages encouraging _everyone else_ to fight to the death."

This gave Six the opportunity to bring up something that had been on her mind since the battle had started. "Cass? Why aren't you shooting anyone from the NCR? They're the ones that killed Marcus. I thought you wanted revenge for him. I wouldn't have minded."

"Six, any retaliation from me would be pointless. They're about to get their ass kicked here. Everyone who plotted against us, everyone who murdered him, will be shot or tortured to death or crucified in a couple of days. This is the end of the NCR. I mean, yeah, if I see Oliver around I might fire a shot or two up his lying ass, but most of these poor bastards we see are just trying to fight for what they think is the greater good. We were like that, once." Cass paused. "Plus, I've been thinking. How do you think the NCR found out who Marcus really was?"

"Didn't one of their soldiers recognize him from a few years back?" Six asked.

"Where are you getting your information, Six?" Cass said, frowning. "Marcus never fought in any battles against the NCR. We were the only people around that knew his true identity. Except his old friend Caesar."

"God," said Six, the wheels beginning to turn. _I've certainly got enough evidence to prove he was a spy ..._ "All they had to do was leak the information through one of their agents … and not only was Marcus dead, we weren't helping the NCR anymore. It weakened both of us. The only group who benefited was the _goddamned_ Legion." Six slammed her fist down on her bedroll. "Oh, that fucking fucker. Why didn't I see through that?"

"It wouldn't have changed anything," Cass said.

"It would have changed some things." Anger and humiliation coursed through her. _Please. I need to forget. Make me forget._ She'd practically begged him. How amusing he must have found it all. She hoisted up her sniper rifle, found the first man in red, and squeezed off a shot.

"Hey, hey, no shooting in anger," chided her friend. "Decanus or above from now on. We're running low on ammo for these things. How long do you think we've got?"

"They're practically at the city gates," Six said. "I'd say a day or less. We'll go when we see the fires start from inside the walls."

"Think they're going to burn it down?"

"Nah. They'll just set a few buildings ablaze, burn some bodies in parks, maybe burn some of the NCR brass alive on top of their troops, but they'll leave the city standing. Caesar wants it too badly to destroy it." Six was surprised at how little this bothered her. After all this time, she'd become numb to atrocities.

"So they'll kill all the men in the city?" Cass asked. "I never really thought about how this works. Kinda hoped I'd never have to."

"They'll kill the men who won't join the Legion, and anyone who's too old to be helpful. They'll send the kids away to be raised into the Legion by other slaves. Then they'll take the women of 'breeding age', strip them and toss them in a slave pen, then hold the auction a few days later. The most attractive women will be given to the highest ranked legionaries and those who distinguished themselves in combat, as prizes, and then everyone else will be sold, for sex or for manual labor or domestic service."

"Is that what happened to you?" Cass asked quietly. With a start, Six realized she'd never told Cass and Veronica about how she'd ended up a slave.

"Ha! No. They dragged me in front of Caesar and then I got mouthy when they were trying to decide my punishment. I said I wanted to fight Vulpes in the arena." Cass gave her a _what the fuck were you thinking_ look. "Well, it had been a long few days, and I was pissed off. And we got to pick our stakes. I said I wanted to go to the NCR, free, with all of you guys, if I won. He said he wanted me as a personal slave. I told him to go fuck himself. Probably not the best idea I've ever had."

"So you actually fought in the arena? I thought they didn't let women do that."

"I guess I'm just special," Six said. "But they whipped me beforehand, so I wasn't able to fight really well. And I had a couple of broken fingers. Arcade taped the machete into my hand and I got in a few good cuts, but he broke my wrist and choked me until I passed out. And thus began my super fun slavery adventure." She sighed. "And now we're heading into that, voluntarily. Cass, you know you can go at any time, right? What Arcade and Veronica are doing … they're the ones who will be getting revenge. We're just going to try to free the slaves before they do it. You can make it out of here."

"Oh, don't even start this shit with me, Six. If things go right, I won't have to worry. And if things go wrong, well, I can take anything those Legion boys can dish out." She thought, for a moment, of Cass, in a slave collar, meek and submissive, broken. The idea failed to compute. She thought again of Cass, in a slave collar, garroting a naked centurion in his sleep and going on a bloody rampage through the city with a machete. Now that, she could see.

"I don't doubt you can hold your own," Six said, smiling. "But it's not going to come to that."

"So you said they'll strip us before they throw us in the pen?" Cass asked.

"Yeah, then give us some slave rags, if we're lucky," answered Six. "That's why we couldn't bring holdout weapons."

"How are you planning to get through that process without them seeing your scars? Aside from the whip marks, you've got a fucking scar in the shape of their X on your back. They're going to know you're an escaped slave."

"Uh … well, shit." _Why didn't I think of that?_ "I guess I'll try to hide my back. If not, then they'll separate me from the group, and we'll just have to go to plan B."

"I don't like plan B," Cass said firmly. "Because I'm not going to leave you here."

"I told you I'd catch up with you before you left the city," Six said. "Once the slaves are free and armed, you're going to have to get out before enough legionaries arrive to make an example of everyone."

"So what's your escape plan for if they recognize you?" Cass asked.

"It's still kind of a work in progress." Six hated to admit that, but every time she tried to think up a plan, she had trouble connecting getting found out with the bloody massacre she hoped would be the next step.

That night, they had begun to see smoke rising from the city, but they were trying to delay their departure as long as they could. Cass spotted movement on the horizon. "Another centurion," she whispered. "This one's mine."

"Suit yourself." Six was wondering if she was beginning to hallucinate. She kept thinking she was hearing voices, far behind her in the woods. Then she heard a snapping branch. She grabbed Cass's rifle and dragged them both into the dirt, slamming her hand over Cass's mouth.

" _They found us,"_ she whispered. "You have to get out of here. They're about a half mile behind us. Leave your weapons here, head north, and start wandering around looking confused and crying. You're already dressed for the refugee part."

"Why can't we stick together for this again?"

"Because then if I get discovered, so do you, and then we have no plan at all. I love you, Cass, you goddamn hellraiser. See you in Shady Sands." She was glad she'd picked Cass to accompany her. Arcade would never have gone for this.

Cass dropped her weaponry and stumbled off into the night as Six watched. A mile away, a group of legionaries grabbed her. Cass was weeping, begging, and doing a very good job of passing for a hysterical NCR refugee, particularly when they ripped her clothing off. For a moment, she was worried the legionaries would kill her right there, but instead they slapped a collar and chains on her and dragged her off towards the east entrance to Shady Sands. _The east side. Good. We've got enough guns by the large courtyard there to last us a lifetime, and it's a straight shot to the mountains._

And now it was her turn. She heard a click behind her head and an unfamiliar voice said, "Drop your weapon and put up your hands, profligate whore."


	15. It Seems Like I'm Caught Up In Your Trap Again

Six obediently dropped her rifle and placed her hands in the air.

"Do you know what we do to NCR soldiers who kill our troops?" said the decanus.

"You crucify them if they're men, and enslave the women," she said quietly.

"And what do you think is going to happen to you?" he asked.

"I think I'd rather you let everyone go, if I have the choice."

"You don't have any choices anymore. I always love to break the defiant ones, Perhaps I'll purchase you myself, and teach you what it is to be a slave of the Legion. Men, strip her." She put up a mock struggle, making sure they couldn't see the marks on her back as they wrestled with her. Eventually they got her under control and attached the collar and manacles, chaining her hands and feet together. She spat out curses until they gagged her with the remnants of her shirt sleeve.  _Shit, are they going to walk me there naked? Anyone behind me is going to see the slave markings, and then we're totally fucked before we even get started. I won't even get to talk to Cass._

She worked the gag out of her mouth until she could speak. "Can I have something to wear?" she asked.

"Are you making demands of us already, degenerate slut?" said the decanus. Six decided that she didn't like him, even by her already low standards for legionaries. She was really looking forward to the moment when he was killed, either for touching the property of Caesar's favorite, or unintentionally leading the architect of a slave rebellion into the city.

"I burn in the sun, sir," she said meekly.

One of the other legionaries, a veteran by the look of his armor, spoke up. "She's right, Tullius. Her skin's too pale. She won't be worth anything at the auction if she's burned to a crisp."

"Fine, fine. Give her the slave rags. But you better not cause any more trouble, or I'll make you pay." _Please. I've dealt with Caesar himself. I'm not going to be scared of any lowly decanus. _

It was a rough walk to Shady Sands. With her legs chained together, Six could only hobble, and the decanus – Tullius, they called him – kept hitting her every time he thought she was moving too slowly. She'd expected to be shocked by the carnage when she entered the gates, but the piles of burning bodies, the screaming women, the laughter and jeers of the men in red were no different than what she'd already seen in New Vegas. The wanted posters with her face on them made her smile.

They herded her into the largest courtyard, into a pen surrounded by a barbed wire fence and patrolled by recruits. Six's thoughts went instantly to their plan. _There's a cache a few blocks north of here, and one about a quarter mile to the southwest. We're less than a mile from the east gate. God, they didn't even bother to chain up half of the captives. They must have run out of equipment, with the number of slaves they've captured here._

"Fancy seeing you here," said Cass, walking up behind her.

"They didn't give you clothing?" Six asked.

"I guess they ran out. Don't worry, I don't mind showing off my assets. How'd you score a dress?"

"I told the idiot who caught me that I burned in the sun, and they figured that I wouldn't be worth a denarius with my skin cracked and peeling," Six explained. "Did you get hurt? I watched your guys and they seemed a little … rough."

"Nah, they didn't try anything. I managed to strike up a conversation with the leader. He seemed like less of a sadistic asshole than the others. I told him I could teach him to play Caravan, and he took the chains off my legs when I asked. Maybe he'll buy me if all of our plans fail. You?"

"The decanus was a real jackass." She lowered her voice so only Cass could hear. "Good thing he's going to die shortly. And when did you develop this disturbing legionary fetish, Cass? That's perverse, even for you."

"You'd be surprised at the stories I heard from Marcus," Cass said brightly. "For a group who believes that women are good for nothing but slaves, there sure are a whole lot of them who want to be on _their_ knees before a girl. Not that I'd ever do it ... but it's an interesting thought."

"Ugh. They all make my skin crawl. You're a deeply messed up human being, Cass."

"Same to you," Cass said, smiling. "So we're going to just sit here and wait?"

"We can start disarming the collars and unlocking the manacles when night falls," Six said. "Get the ones who have military background first. We probably shouldn't spend much time talking to each other, either, or the guards might get suspicious. Got your key? Good luck. We're going to need it."

They managed to unlock a good part of the shackles that night. Each unlocking had to come with a quick explanation of the plan and a reminder to keep the shackles closed and not start any trouble until the gates opened, so it took a while. It didn't help that they could only do their work in the very middle of the pen, where the legionaries couldn't see them. Many of the civilian women insisted on trying to find their children, and Six had to break the news that the children had already been sent south and were to be shipped elsewhere to be raised by the slaves and priestesses. She told them that they were free to try and go find them once they were all out of Shady Sands, even though it would certainly result in their death. _Maybe we should have attacked the group holding the kids instead of this. But the legionaries probably would have just gunned them down._ She did some quick calculations. _They'll be somewhere in the Mojave five days from now. They'll have a chance._

Most of the slaves were asleep by the time Cass came up to Six again. "We've got a problem."

"What?"

"Some of these collars are a different model. It's older. I don't know how to disarm them, and so far, no one has been inclined to let me experiment."

_Shit._ "What percentage of them are this model?"

"I'd say … one in four?" Cass said.

"So we can either leave those women here, or consider them acceptable losses. God, both of those options sound awful." Six thought for a moment. "If we end up having to go with plan B, we can disarm those too, and save everyone."

"We're not going to do plan B unless they find you out, Six. We agreed on that."

"Okay. So we'll wait and see. Let's get the rest of the collars disarmed tomorrow night, and then we can figure out what to do with the remainder. We should probably try to get some sleep."

They napped on opposite sides of the pen. Morning broke with an unpleasant surprise. Apparently some of the higher-ranking legionaries had decided to see what they'd be getting to choose from in a few days, and all the captives were ordered to line up against the fence.  _Okay, just avert my face, look submissive, and hope that no one recognizes me._

She glanced at the group of legionaries while they were speaking to the guards. _There's a few centurions I recognize from Vegas, but they might not know me. No Caesar, no Vulpes, thank God._ With a sinking feeling, she saw the bearded head of the Praetorians was among them. _Lucius. Of course. Well, I'm boned. I should have dyed my hair like Cass did. Maybe gotten some facial tattoos._

The guards let themselves inside the pen and forced them all up against the fence, pressed face-first into the wires. Disobedience was met with shoves or cracks of a whip. Six took a position far away from the group of legionaries and tried her best to look broken and defeated. She cast her eyes to the ground.  _If I don't make eye contact, maybe Lucius won't know it's me._

Fortune was not on her side. As the legionaries passed by her group, Lucius paused. "Guard, make that one look up."

A guard approached her from behind and jerked her head up by the hair. She met Lucius's gaze, and his eyes narrowed. "Make her turn around, and remove her top."

She was slammed back against the fence as her slave dress was roughly pulled down to her waist. She could almost feel the heated gaze of the legionaries on her back. She knew they were staring at her scars, at the red X, wondering who she belonged to. "Back facing me."

She turned around on her own, and smiled serenely at the group, knowing the jig was up. "Courier," sighed Lucius, sounding like he had hoped it was someone else. "Who brought you here?"

"Good to see you again too, Lucius," Six said brightly. "Someone named Tullius."

"Tullius. Of course. Who else wouldn't recognize a woman whose face has been plastered on wanted posters throughout the NCR? How that moron was ever made a decanus, I'll never understand. He couldn't command a dog to sit."

"I can't disagree," she said. "Are we going to stand here and gossip, or do I get to get out of this slave pen?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to want out of here." He lowered his voice. "People are angry. Your _master_ is very angry. I almost feel bad for you." He turned and spoke to the rest of the group. "This woman is a profligate of the highest order, a dangerous enemy responsible for the deaths of hundreds of our men. Take her to face Caesar's judgment. Pull up her dress. Replace those chains with some ropes around her arms and legs, and tie them tightly. She's shown a nasty talent for escape." He paused. "And someone bring Tullius to Caesar, too. We need to have a chat with him about his job requirements."

She'd hoped to be allowed to walk, but a bulky centurion bound her hands and feet tightly together and tossed her over his shoulder. She smiled mirthlessly at Cass, who had watched the scene play out in horror. Time to face the music.


	16. California Über Alles

"You stand in judgment before Caesar, son of Mars, conqueror of the 99 tribes, true ruler and lord of the West, to face punishment for your crimes against the Legion," announced Tullius imperiously. They'd dragged Six into a large, open-air building that Caesar had apparently been using as his public courtroom. There were three trials before hers, all NCR officials, all sentenced to whipping and crucifixion. The large crowd of legionaries cheered each one. Now it was her turn, bound and on her knees, facing Caesar himself. She'd been here before. _Not scared, and not impressed._ _  
_

"You're up to 99 tribes? Do you win a prize if you get one more?"

"Shut your degenerate mouth when in the presence of your Lord, whore," snarled Tullius, striking her across the face. She licked the blood from her lips. _I am really going to appreciate your death._

"What has this one done?" said Caesar, sounding bored. He looked healthier than he had in Vegas. Maybe California suited him. Lucius, standing next to him, whispered in his ear. His eyes widened.

"Courier? They captured you alive? Oh, Gods above. Why are you _here?_ You do know that there's no shame in killing yourself rather than becoming a prisoner, right? I thought you would have learned that from your last stay with the Legion. Who brought this woman into my city?" he asked.

"I did, my Lord," said Tullius proudly, failing to read the mood in the court.

"I sincerely wish you wouldn't have. She is a plague on this army."

"She has the plague?" Tullius asked, eying her warily and backing away.

"No, she _is_ a plague, you idiot," sighed Caesar. "I don't mean that she's sick."

"It's a metaphor," Six volunteered. "Because I bring destruction and ruin with me."

"Silence, woman!" Tullius snapped.

Six and Caesar shared a moment of mutual eye-rolling. His expression said it all. _See what sort of morons I'm dealing with here?_ She remembered how charming Caesar could be. In another universe, she could have enjoyed talking to him.

"Not only did Tullius here capture her, he did so without discovering that his new captive was one of our most vicious opponents," Lucius said smoothly. "He also failed to notice the slave mark on her back, despite being the one to strip her, and left her in the main pen with minimal guarding. And he struck the property of someone of higher rank." Tullius seemed surprised by this.

"Crispus?" asked Caesar, turning to a masked Praetorian. "Please take Tullius to his reward. Twenty lashes followed by crucifixion should be sufficient to remind everyone that the Legion does not tolerate abject stupidity. This has been a long time coming."

"What should we do with the woman, my Lord?" asked Lucius.

"Bring her to the office on the west side of the building. I'd prefer to discuss this in private. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes."

The same centurion as before carried her to a small room, barely big enough for a large metal desk. The centurion placed her before the desk, and Lucius, who had been following behind them alongside Caesar and the Praetorians, pushed her back to her knees. Caesar sat down, and Lucius stood to his side. Caesar looked at the other Praetorians. "You are dismissed. I will see you on my return to the court."

"My Lord -" began one hesitantly.

"Do you really think that Lucius and I can't handle a bound, weaponless woman? You. Are. Dismissed. Go take a bathroom break or something. If you feel like you must be of service, make a pot of coffee for us. It's too early for this."

The Praetorians exited the room, leaving just the three of them. Caesar put his feet up on the desk, seemingly relaxed. "Courier, I almost feel like I should pardon you for giving me the opportunity to get rid of Tullius. But it appears that you aren't interested in accepting my pardons."

"I don't recall you offering me a pardon, sir," she said. It couldn't hurt to keep being polite. "My friends turned down your deal when they found out I wasn't included. I would have preferred they had taken it, but it's too late for that."

"Loyalty is to be admired, although they may have taken it past its logical point," he said. "Let's get the formalities out of the way. Courier, do you know why you're here before me today, yet again?"

"The same charges as last time, except … more of them? Oh, escaping from Vegas. Exposing your intelligence network. And I blew up your train." She was still proud of the train incident.

"Essentially, yes," he said. "Your activities lately have taken a disturbingly terroristic turn. I've heard about the train, more times than I'd have cared for. Vulpes is very upset at you for that."

"Where is he, anyway, sir? I figured he would be here for this. Did he die in the battle?" _Oh, please._

Caesar smiled. "Unfortunately for you, no. He's on a mission today and should return tonight. I suspect he'll be quite happy with this turn of events. As I'm sure you've gathered, I'd prefer that you be decorating a cross by the gates of Shady Sands, but he insisted on having you returned to him as a slave. What that man sees in you, I'll never know, but he appears to be quite preoccupied with breaking you. I reward my men for their service, and frankly, it's good to have somewhere to divert his … more excessive tendencies. He can get a bit too creative without something to distract him."

"Glad I could be of service, sir," she said bitterly.

"You're getting a mite cheeky for my liking, Courier," said Caesar. He didn't seem upset, though. "We'll have to fix that."

"Sorry, sir," she said. "So do I get a request like last time?"

"No, you don't, _because_ of what happened last time," Caesar said. "Instead, I'll allow you one question, and an honest answer."

Six wanted to ask what was going to happen to her friends if they were captured, but she didn't want to turn his attention to them. She could ask one for Cass, though, to confirm her suspicions. "Did the Legion tell the NCR about Marcus's real identity?"

"Of all things, that's what you're going to ask? Not about your friends, not about your fate? You never fail to surprise me with your choices, Courier," he said. "Of course we did. We also gave them the idea to assassinate you in the first place, through one of our undercover operatives. Oliver was very receptive; he was still unhappy about you not surrendering Vegas. And then Vulpes told you about it himself, and provided you with damning evidence. That whole plan was one of his more brilliant ideas during this campaign. If you'd worked out an alliance between the NCR, the Brotherhood and the Followers, this would have been a difficult war for us to win. Instead, you were at each other's throats."

Six clenched her fists, still tied behind her back. _He was playing me the whole fucking time. From the moment he saw me in Divine's. Nothing but more fucking manipulation, from the master goddamn manipulator. And he got exactly what he wanted, didn't he? The NCR is dead, Shady Sands is theirs, and I'm at the end of his leash, again._

"Angry with yourself, Courier?" asked Caesar quietly."I wouldn't be. It won't do you any good. You lost to a superior opponent. There's no dishonor in that."

She said nothing, silently fuming.

"Lucius, could you call Alerio in to take her to her new quarters? Tell him to follow the orders that Vulpes left him for this contingency. You can untie her feet and let her walk; she's still got the collar on. Courier, may I suggest that you _obey,_ for once in your life? It will make your existence significantly more pleasant. Oh, and you may receive a dinner invitation from me in a few weeks, when the dust has settled." She looked at him in surprise. "It would be nice to enjoy the company of someone who is neither a complete idiot nor a fawning sycophant. I can only eat with Lucius and Vulpes so many times before every meal devolves into an argument. Vale, Courier. I wish you luck."

Lucius waited with her outside the court. Eventually, a vaguely familiar-looking legionary with brown hair and eyes strolled up, looking like he would rather be doing any other job in the world.

"Alerio, take her to Vulpes's house, and do whatever it was he said to do with her. I'm tired of dealing with this woman today." _Come on, I didn't even do anything too bad this time._

The legionary gestured to her, and she detached herself from the wall and began to walk with him. "I recognize you," she said. "From New Vegas. Not Legion Vegas, real Vegas, from before the war."

"I'm sure you do, Courier. My name is Alerio, and I'm one of the Frumentarii who were sent to keep an eye on the Strip. I was reassigned to Shady Sands shortly after Vegas fell. Years of providing invaluable information, and now I get to spend our grand victory running menial errands."

"If you must be elsewhere, I can walk the rest of the way myself. I'm sure you have more important things to do with your time."

"That wasn't even a good try, Courier," he said, although he was smiling slightly. "Mostly because you don't know where we're going."

"How come you guys have houses here?" she asked, changing the subject. "You've been in control like three days. Just doing the paperwork on buying a house takes a week."

"It's a lot easier when you kill the previous owner and move in. Isn't that how you got the Lucky 38? Less paperwork, and no time spent shopping for furniture. Plus, it's not like we have many possessions. Being limited to what you and whatever slaves you own can carry on your back means we don't accumulate a lot of clutter." He paused. "Most of us have actual houses in Flagstaff, ones that belong to us. These are just temporary accommodations for as long as Caesar wants to operate out of Shady Sands. I hope to return to Flagstaff soon, once this interminable Western campaign is over."

"You don't talk like the other legionaries," she said.

"I've been undercover for a long time," he said. "Ten-dollar words don't get you far in New Vegas, or in Shady Sands. I'm sure I'll resume sounding like a pompous ass shortly."

"You also don't seem to have much respect for your superiors."

"Don't I? I serve Lord Caesar without hesitation, and do as Vulpes Inculta asks of me. My loyalty has never been in doubt. But I've been in the Legion long enough to be able to speak my mind on occasion without losing my head. I'm Vulpes's second in command, by the way, and his most trusted adviser. You should probably know that before you say something you'll regret."

She thought for a moment. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"That he would pick someone who speaks their mind as a second in command."

Alerio smiled at her. "Nor does it surprise me that he would choose someone who has tried to kill him numerous times as a personal slave. He doesn't value blind obedience as much as most other men of the Legion. Which is good, because just from this conversation, I'd estimate the chances of you ever blindly obeying _anyone_ at about zero percent."

She smiled back. "You might just be the first person I've met today who I don't want to kill, Alerio."

"Same to you, Courier Six. But as it is, we've arrived at our destination." He opened the door to a house that looked similar to all the others on the street. The main room, which she supposed was the living room, was light and airy, and sun streamed through a hole in the ceiling covered with glass. There was a relatively nice couch, a few chairs, and a bookcase. The previous owners had decent taste in home décor, although the fake tribal paintings on the walls made her roll her eyes. With a start, she realized that this house – all these houses – had been built after the war. For once, she wouldn't be staying in a bombed-out, two-hundred-year-old shack. "Care for a tour?"

"If you're actually asking and not just demanding, then no. I'm sure I'll see it eventually. But I would really appreciate a bath, and some food, and some clothing that was not repurposed from a former life as a burlap sack." She noticed another damn computer terminal lock on the door. Someday she'd have to work on guessing passwords.

Alerio pulled a note out of his pocket. "It's your lucky day, then." He caught her glare. "That might have been the wrong choice of words. What I mean is that all of those are on the list of instructions Vulpes left, were you to be captured. The bathroom is to the left, bedroom to the right of the bathroom, and I'll fix something up for lunch in the kitchen back there. All these bigger houses have the same floor plan. But I'm willing to bet that the previous owners of this house had better food than I have at home, so if you'll swear yourself to secrecy, I can make something big enough for both of us. One more day of pork and beans with Cram and I'm going to lose it."

"I promise I won't tell your boss you're stealing his food." She wiggled her hands, still bound behind her back. "Any chance you can cut me free? While I'm sure I could take a bath with my hands tied behind my back, I don't think it would be very effective."

He pulled a knife from his belt and cut her hands loose. She rubbed them until the tingling went away. "Leave the door open when you bathe." She raised an eyebrow. "I need to make sure you're not concealing a weapon or hanging yourself from the shower bar. I won't stare. As I said, I'm loyal, and I'm not suicidal. I do need to check the house for anything you can use to try and kill anyone. I've been told you're more than a little adept at improvising weapons, and I don't want to end years of honorable service being gutted by a slave girl using a pre-war television antenna."

"If I were as dangerous as everyone seems to think I am, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," she said bitterly.

The bath, at least, was nice. It felt good to get the grime of the hills and the stink of the slave pen off of her. No shampoo, but soap and water did just as well with her new haircut. She soaked until her feet were turning wrinkled and the aches in her muscles went away, then wrapped herself in a towel and went to find some clothing.

Alerio called from the kitchen, "It looks like one of the previous owners was about your size, but her taste in clothing is … more traditional than I suspect yours is. Make do. Then come eat."

Six entered the bedroom. The bed was king-sized, bigger than the one in Vegas, and _of course_ had a wrought iron headboard. She didn't even bother checking for chains; she was sure they were somewhere around here. She opened the walk-in closet. "What the fucking hell is this shit?"

"I warned you," yelled Alerio back.

Veronica would have been in heaven. Dresses, all of them, some fancy, some for everyday wear. At least they looked like they'd fit. There were no pants, no shirts, not even a nice button-up blouse. "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself. More appropriate clothing was going to be one of her first requests, if she was even allowed to wear clothing anymore. She chose a flowing calf-length blue dress that didn't show too much skin. She glanced at the lingerie drawer, then decided that wearing a dead woman's underpants was creepy.

She went back to the kitchen to find Alerio cooking what looked like some stir-fry. She leaned in and sniffed. "Is that gecko or coyote?"

"It's beef. You know, from a brahmin. We eat actual food here, not whatever gets caught under a caravan's wheels. I see the stories of your legendary culinary skills were not exaggerated."

"Hey, you were right. You are sounding like a pompous ass again!" She gestured to her dress. "So how do I look?"

He glanced over. "Like someone who hasn't worn a dress in years and really does not want to be wearing one now. Fancy, though. The previous owners of this place must have been rich. They've even got Nuka-Cola Victory in the fridge. Want to try some with dinner?"

"Sure, why not. Might as well enjoy myself while I can. Are those fresh peaches in that bowl?"

"There are lots of peach trees in the backyards here. I've also got an orange tree and an apple tree."

"Nice," she said, biting into a peach. "Tell me where you live, because I'm going to go steal fruit from your backyard all the time. Oh God, this tastes so good." The stir-fry was also pretty appetizing, and the Nuka-Cola Victory tasted like every sweet flavor in the world.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked, when they'd finished their meal.

"No, I'm good," Six said.

"Are you sure? Because you're not going to be going anywhere for a while." He opened a metal chest by the door and pulled out chains and shackles.

"Oh, come on. Do you have to?" she said, exasperated.

"Orders are orders," he shrugged. "We can do this with some dignity, or I can drag you kicking and screaming."

" _Fine,"_ she snapped. He motioned her into the bedroom, where she put her hands up against the headboard. He threaded the chain through, then snapped the cuffs on her wrists. She was beginning to regret not just hiding in the hills. It might have been sacrificing hundreds of lives for her own, but the old terror was beginning to creep up on her, the suffocating feeling of _I'm going to die in here._ Whenever Cass had brought up this possibility, back when she was planning the whole thing, she'd dismissed it with a shrug and a comment that she'd survived four months, so a few days couldn't be so bad. But it was easy to be brave when she was behind several feet of Vault steel. Maybe running forever wouldn't have been that bad an option.

"Legs too."

"What? I'm already chained to a fucking bed, in a locked house, in a city filled with my enemies. Tying my legs down is wholly unnecessary." 

"I don't think it's about security," Alerio said carefully. "It's more about … presentation."

She growled. "Do what you have to do, then. Does he want a pretty bow on top, too?"

"Something like that." He finished chaining her legs, spread-eagle, and she was glad she'd picked a looser dress. "Open your mouth."

Six saw he was holding something, a rubber ball with a leather collar around it. She'd heard of ball gags, but had never seen one. "Oh, no. That's it. No fucking way." She clenched her mouth shut.

"Have it your way." He leaned over her, pinched her nose shut, and dug his fingers into her jaw. When she opened her mouth slightly to breathe, he forced it in and buckled it behind her head. "I suspect this is a lesson for you to stop mouthing off and spitting venom at everyone you come in contact with. He's right, too. That won't get you anywhere here. Vale, Courier."

She heard him leave the house and lock the door behind him. She laid there, testing her bonds, and dreading the moment when the door would open again.


	17. The Past Is Never Dead. It's Not Even Past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. Even writing this chapter made me feel evil. Trigger warning for rape, bondage, emotional manipulation, and general awfulness.

It was a damn fine week to be Legion.

They'd routed the NCR at Shady Sands and taken the city largely intact. Vulpes had been proud to receive the honor of killing General Oliver himself. He'd made sure that the cowardly worm had known that his 'brilliant idea' to assassinate the Courier had all been part of the Legion's master plan, right before he stuck his knife in the man's stomach and twisted. Kimball had been crucified in front of his own home, with minimal wounds inflicted, so he would survive as long as possible. He'd been alive the previous night, when Vulpes had been sent with a contubernium to wipe out one of the remaining pockets of resistance north of the city, but he was probably dead by now. He hadn't bothered to check. He was more interested in detouring to Tullius's cross. The man had always been irritating, but he'd reached new heights of stupidity with this little fuck-up. He'd pointed a gun at the sobbing decanus, made Tullius beg Vulpes to end his suffering, and then shot him in the knee and walked away.

Damn fine week. Tonight would be the icing on the cake.

One thing he'd learned in his time as a frumentarius, he mused as he unlocked his front door, was that sometimes the expectation of pain was worse than pain itself. Demonstrate your abilities, then take a break, leave them time for their fear to fester, grow to incredible proportions, before returning for the finale. Much better, much more _useful_ for retrieving information _,_ than just inflicting a string of unrelenting horrors on someone.

With this in mind, Vulpes made sure to close the door loudly enough so the Courier – Six, he supposed he should start calling her, she wouldn't be delivering any more packages anytime soon – could hear it. Then he took a long, hot shower. He'd chosen this house for its bathroom and its bed, making sure both were appropriate for his comfort. When almost all the hot water had run out, he changed into a set of clean clothing, frowning at the unfamiliar feel. He'd been wearing his armor so much recently that regular clothes, even just a tunica, seemed alien. He ran his hands through his hair, happy to see the tips were still curly – he'd decided he liked keeping it a little longer than he had in Vegas. He wet a washcloth with soap and water and pulled out his straight razor, still bloodied from his last mission. As he touched the cloth to the blade, he had a sudden idea and tucked the razor away in his pocket instead, before walking into the bedroom.

Alerio had done a superb job. The girl was chained on her back, spread-eagle, gagged, unable to move more than an inch or two. The red marks on the edges of her manacles showed that she had definitely tried. She was otherwise unmarked by cuts or bruises. Her eyes glittered with hate, but he could tell from the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she was scared. Good. He reached into his pocket and wiped off the razor with the washcloth, making sure she saw the blood, then set them both gently on the far edge of the nightstand. She jerked backwards, as much as she could, and breathed faster. Another of his favorite tricks was to put a weapon just out of their reach, so they could see it but couldn't touch it, and to make sure they knew it was going to be used on them.

"Ave, Six," he said, softly, noticing her eyes narrow at his use of her real name. "It was courteous of you to come near the city on your own. I figured that I would have to track down you and your friends. This makes things so much easier on us both."

Vulpes put his hand on one of the shackles attached to her ankle, then stroked the reddened skin around it. "I see you met my good friend Alerio. Didn't he seem nice? He's very skilled at seeming to be things. Had you hoped you'd made an ally? I hate to disappoint you, but Alerio is not any better of a man than I am, although he does have the courage to speak his mind. I thought you would appreciate that."

He moved his hand up to her throat and brushed against the slave collar. "Alerio's particular vice is slave girls. He likes to choke them when he's fucking them. He says it makes them even tighter around him. Sometimes he lets them survive. Sometimes he does not. Alerio has been undercover for so long that he hasn't had a chance to indulge in years. He'll have a good time at the slave auction tomorrow evening. Pity Miss Santangelo isn't here. He likes girls with dark hair and dark eyes. Her not knowing a man before would be a bonus."

Her jaw was clenching around the ball gag, and he could tell she was dying to spit out some retort. "Do you have something to say about that? Too bad. I think we can dispense with this slave collar, though. I distrust these. Too much potential for messy accidents." He took a closer look. "Although I see you've managed to disarm it yourself. Have you been learning about electronics? Remind me to increase the security level on the computer at the front door. Still, I don't like it. We'll find you something more appropriate." With deft fingers, he unlocked the collar and tossed it onto the floor.

Vulpes picked up the straight razor and sat on the edge of the bed, by her waist, and examined it. "This has had a busy day, but I'm sure it could find one more use. I hope you haven't grown attached to this dress. Don't move." He pressed the flat of the blade against her collar bone, then dragged the razor down the front of the dress, easily ripping the fabric and pushing it aside. A muffled yelp and a thin trail of blood told him that he had cut slightly too deep around her sternum. He crawled up beside her and licked the blood from the cut while she struggled against her chains.

When the bleeding had stopped, he leaned back on his knees and stripped off his clothing. "Keep your eyes on me, slave." She stared straight at him. Her eyes burned with fury and fear. "Do you know what the purpose of this particular exercise is?" He sat back, as if waiting for an answer, while she bit at her gag. " _That_ is the point. To learn that you have no defense here, not even your quick wit or your sharp tongue. To learn that sometimes you have to lie back and accept what is given to you, what you _deserve_. To be _helpless._ Personally, I enjoy your cursing and arguments and retorts, but outside these walls, you will find few in this city who agree with me. You need to learn to speak when spoken to, and to obey your superiors." He smiled wickedly. "And of course, this gives me the opportunity to say whatever I want to you without any smart comebacks. All you can do is listen."

He trailed the razor up her thigh, leaving tiny cuts that would sting but not scar. She glared mutinously at the blade. "Do you wish this was in your hand? You do know that my death would be the worst possible outcome for you, right? Your status as my property is the only thing that's keeping you alive. Without it, you'd be torn apart by vengeful legionaries for killing their friends. Literally torn apart. They'd beat you and fuck you until you were unrecognizable, until you bled to death. Lanius used to do that. None of his slaves ever survived more than a few days. I suppose that's one of the benefits of being almost seven feet tall and built like a Brahmin. You can rely on brute force for anything. The rest of us must learn some subtlety." He followed the blade with his fingers, dancing gently against her, until she shivered. Goosebumps appeared on her skin, and her nipples hardened.

Vulpes placed the razor back on the end table, then cocked his head and looked at Six. "I don't think I ever showed my appreciation to your group for killing him. Had he become our leader, the Legion would have fallen apart in a few years. He never understood why Caesar was interested in converting people to our ideals, teaching them that our harsh methods were only necessary to fight the corruption and degeneracy of the West, and then talking them into joining us voluntarily. He would have mowed down every tribe that he saw without thinking. Who exactly do I have to thank for that again?" Six growled, low in her throat. "Oh, that's right. The sniper mutt I had crucified. You know, between him killing Lanius, your doctor friend healing Lord Caesar, and you keeping the NCR out of Vegas, your group has been invaluable to the Legion's recent success. More than most legionaries. And you did it all while hating us. Well, you hated the NCR at the end, too, but that wasn't really _their_ fault, was it?"

He rolled on top of her, settling between her legs, pressing hard against her, but not inside, not just yet. Taunting her like this was incredibly gratifying, and he wanted to draw it out as long as possible. She was seething, wriggling against him, hot rage in her eyes that he knew he'd be able to turn into lust and pleasure, if given the chance. He bent his head to her breast, sucked and swirled his tongue around her nipple until she arched beneath him. Then he nipped his way up to her neck. Finding one of the few spots of unmarked skin, he bit down while running a hand between her thighs, pushing two fingers into her harshly. She wasn't quite ready, but his movements grew easier as he continued working her with his teeth and fingers. He pulled back from her neck and kissed her until she pulled her head away. He pressed another finger into her, and he could feel her moan behind the gag, vibrating against his chest. "What a well-trained pet you are," he crooned, and she flinched.

Six tried turning her head away, but Vulpes grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back. "Eyes. On. Me." he growled, dropping the fancy words and smooth tone, thrusting with his fingers to emphasize each word. She couldn't close her legs, couldn't fight against him. Of course, he loved wrestling her into submission, proving his strength, his _superiority_ by pinning her and forcing her down, like in the woods. But something about seeing such a fierce woman tied and helpless before him and knowing that he owned her … well, she'd be spending a lot more time in chains in the coming weeks.

Back to business. "I've heard that Lord Caesar let you know about our suggestion to the NCR," he said, continuing the movements of his fingers, his other hand caressing her cheek in a parody of a lover's touch. "He said you were angry, but that he told you there was no shame in losing to a more skilled opponent. I haven't been able to pull off a long con with that much success in … forever. You played your part well. But your actions after I interrogated that NCR dog were surprising. I know that _being_ tortured turns you on - well, just look at you now, bound and gagged, hot and wet." He punctuated that statement by removing his fingers, licking them, then continuing as he had been before.

"But seeing someone else die like that, begging me to fuck you while I still had his blood in my hair ... I wouldn't think that would have done it for you. You must have a hell of a darkness inside of you, Six. Did you tell your friends? Did that doctor give you his judgmental face, take off his glasses and rub his eyes? How disappointed he must have been." Vulpes caught her death glare and laughed. "Are you mad at me for all that? For playing you, for fucking you over? Get used to it." He began to touch her clit with his thumb, fingers still moving. "I told you that you'd be an idiot to believe anything I had to say, back in that bar. It's not my fault that you don't listen."

Six tried to buck him off, and he couldn't resist any longer. He pulled back his fingers and slowly slid his cock inside her, hissing at the warmth, the tightness. He thrust slowly but deeply while she tried to look away; every time her eyes left him, he pulled her hair or slapped her. "Still so _good,_ profligate. We fit well together, like you were made to be fucked by me." After a few minutes he bent his head and whispered in her ear, "Maybe you were. Created by Venus herself, for my pleasure. Or your punishment. Did you do something _bad_ in a previous life?"

Her chained hands balled up into fists. Vulpes was sure she would be gritting her teeth, flinging insults, maybe even trying to bite him if she was able. He'd bet ten denarii that her first sentence would involve the phrases "shut up" and "fuck you". The gag had been a fantastic idea, Caesar's idea, loosely interpreted from "find some way to keep that insolent bitch quiet so your neighbors don't threaten to kill you this time." He wouldn't be surprised if the rubber had teeth marks in it by the end of the night.

After some time, Vulpes grabbed her hips, lifted her as much as the chains would allow, and slid a hand beneath her. "It almost wants to make me keep you all to myself. But that would be selfish." Six tensed and shook her head back and forth frantically. "Don't like that idea, do you? Keep me entertained and maybe it won't be an issue." He moved his hand lower and gently pushed in a finger as she stiffened. "I enjoy sharing my playthings. There's just something about the way a woman looks in that situation, suspended between men, surrounded, dominated, utterly depraved. I certainly won't toss you to the recruits, but one or two trusted others … perhaps Alerio, maybe Lucius again. You didn't seem to mind that too much last time, although you likely don't remember much about it."

 _It's as if every time things are as bad as they can get, they get worse,_ Six thought. Vulpes hadn't even hurt her much physically, just a few slaps and minor cuts. But somehow this was the most painful encounter she'd had with him, aside from her time in the torture chamber, which she had worked hard at blocking from her memory. It was the way he was talking to her, hissing his horrible words so casually, hitting all her sore spots. Boone, Arcade, Veronica. Her humiliation at what had happened in the woods, her embarrassment at being manipulated to abandon the NCR so easily, and her fear of what would happen to her if she were thrown to the other legionaries. Normally, she felt she could almost go toe-to-toe with him when they fought with words, but she'd had that ability stripped from her. It left her more naked and vulnerable than she'd ever felt before. What was the word he'd used? _Helpless._ And every time she tried to dissociate, to send her mind to a happier place and think about weapon specs or conversations she'd had with her friends, he'd realized immediately and dragged her back here.

_How many days until Arcade and Veronica get there? Four, now? Three? I can't take much more of this. Maybe I can run tomorrow, when they're dealing with Cass and the slaves. But that could get everyone killed. And if they find out I was involved, I don't even want to imagine what the punishment would be like. Plan B only works if I stay for now. It's all mind games. Toughen the fuck up, Six._

Vulpes bit her throat again, pulling her back into reality. "You're not paying attention," he said lightly, pushing in another finger. She clenched and hoped he wouldn't notice, but his chuckle told her otherwise. "It won't hurt as badly if you just relax. I know what I'm doing." _Yes, you do. That's the problem, you motherfucker._

"I won't take you here, not tonight. Another lesson. Things can be less painful if you give in and let it happen. That may be something for you to consider." _Once I get out of here, I'm going to have to get therapy, or I'm going to snap and go on a killing spree every time I hear the word 'lesson.'_ He reached between them with his other hand and began playing with her again. "You may actually grow to like it, if you're in the right mindset. And if you don't … too bad for you. I enjoy it, and my enjoyment is directly tied to how pleasant your life here will be."

He was close, she could tell, but he seemed determined to push her there first. She distantly wondered where he got so talented with his fingers and tongue. Surely slave girls didn't warrant this. It was probably another power thing. It always was, in the end. She didn't even bother to try to hold back, not wanting to prolong this. He grinned wickedly as she writhed and twisted in her chains, groaning low in her throat, giving him what he wanted. And then, surprisingly, he stilled his fingers and pulled away.

Six looked at Vulpes as the sparks faded. He'd shifted up the bed, straddling her chest, still hard. "Do you want me to take that gag out?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Well, then. You can probably figure out the price."

He unbuckled the gag and pulled it out as she gasped for air. He gave her no time to adjust, pushing into her throat as she desperately tried to use her dry tongue, tried to make it better for him. When he came, it was too deep, and she coughed and choked as he withdrew, unable to swallow as she knew he liked. Vulpes sighed and clucked his tongue in disappointment.

"I was under the impression that you were trying to please me. Clearly, you still have much to learn." Before she could begin cursing him and all of his ancestors, he shoved the gag back in her mouth and redid the latch. "I'm going to get some water, maybe a snack. Don't go anywhere, now." He smacked her on the hip. "I'll be back shortly. This has been a stressful week for me, so you should prepare for a long night. Oh, and I like your haircut. According to the traditions of your society, I believe you should thank me for noticing. You can do that later." Still naked, he hopped off the bed and headed to the kitchen.


	18. The Lights And Towns Below

Day broke. _Three. Three days until Arcade delivers the message. Three times two is six. Like my name. That's funny. Isn't it? Talking to yourself again. That doesn't seem very sane to me._ But she'd promised not to talk back, if only Vulpes would take the gag out and let her drink water. He'd also unchained her legs and one of her arms, less for her comfort and more for variety in his torments, and so he wouldn't have to lie across the metal himself.

He'd finally fallen asleep a few hours ago. He'd been so damned talkative, almost casually chatty, that she'd been worried he would keep her up through the night. It was as if he'd washed down a dose of Psycho with a few cups of coffee. Back in Vegas, Six had learned to read his moods by his voice, so she could anticipate and defend against a bad night when he was angry or stressed. Last night, he spoke as if he'd won the world. Maybe for him, he had. But now that he was deeply asleep, she had something to do.

Making sure that he was still out, she inched her foot over the side of the bed and probed the space between the bed frame and the mattress. She heard a dull clink. Wiggling her toes, she was able to grasp the key and carefully retrieved it. Six grabbed at it with her free hand, then tucked it between the mattress and the bedspring by her head, where she'd be able to reach it when she needed it. Noticing that he was stirring, she quickly snuggled back into the blanket.

"How are you even awake?" he asked tiredly. She remained silent, remembering his instructions. He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her shoulder. "You may answer when I ask a question."

"Just thinking," she said quietly.

"About what?" Vulpes asked.

 _Ways to kill you._ "If you're going to buy anyone else at the slave auction today."

He laughed. "Were you hoping I was, or were you hoping I wasn't?"

"It doesn't make a difference what I want," Six said.

"Very good. It doesn't. At least you learned something last night." She felt him smile. "But no, I hadn't planned on it. I usually don't have to buy; I'm high enough rank to be awarded a prize, instead. And I've got my reward. Did you want a friend, or were you hoping to deflect my attentions?"

She didn't answer. He pinched her waist, hard. "That wasn't a hypothetical question. Well?"

"Neither," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "I wouldn't wish this on anyone else." She wondered, if everything ended up going wrong, if he'd recognize Cass. She hoped not. Then again, there was about a ninety percent chance Cass would murder anyone who bought her.

"Not enjoying yourself here? You certainly seemed to be, at least at the end."

"Pleasure isn't the same as consent," she growled. He'd certainly given her enough of the former over the night, enough to make her feel humiliated. If their roles were ever reversed, the first thing she'd do would be to cut out his tongue, so he couldn't talk or … do anything else with it.

"Good thing I don't really care about either." He pulled her closer. "You should get some sleep. I have work to do earlier, but you'll be accompanying me to the auction. We have to put in an appearance. Try to look more defeated than you do right now. That will make Caesar happy."

"When is the auction?" She tried to sound disinterested.

"Do you have some other pressing engagement today?" he retorted. "It's usually just before sunset. I'll come home at around five. Alerio will be by at lunchtime to give you food."

_So … I've got between lunchtime and five. Siri told me that they usually do the inspection process an hour or two before the auction, which is probably around 5:30 or 6. That's a pretty tight time frame. I can just get everything into position and then do it when I hear the shooting start._

She fell back asleep, and was woken by the sound of someone in the kitchen. Alerio. He unchained her so she could use the bathroom and then led her into the kitchen to eat lunch. He tried to make the sort of light conversation that they'd been enjoying the day before, but Six wasn't playing along with it, responding only in short phrases. Alerio sighed. "I see you've had some illusions shattered, Courier."

"I thought you were nice when you talked to me yesterday," she said quietly. "I guess I was wrong."

"Nice isn't the same as good, Six," he said.

"Can we not talk? After what I heard last night, I'm nauseated being in the same room with you."

"According to the ways of the Legion, neither I nor Vulpes have done anything wrong," he said, as if he had given this speech before. "Profligates are not people, enemies must be made an example of, women are less than men, and slaves are property. We can do what we want with any of them, and you're unfortunate enough to fall in all four categories. By our standards, you're the grievous sinner here."

"Bullshit," she snarled. "You're both too smart to believe that. You're using your ideology as a cover for being a _fucking_ sadist."

"But you thought I was so nice _._ " She chose not to take the bait. _I miss the days when I only had to deal with one of these assholes._ "Well, finish your meal and then get back in the bed. I'm to leave one hand free and give you some books."

She silently walked to the bed and watched dispassionately as he chained her legs and right arm back to the bed. "Vale, Six." She turned her head away.

After five minutes, when she was sure he wasn't coming back, she reached over with her left arm and plucked the key to the shackles from its hiding place. She unlocked her other arm, then both of her legs. She got up and stretched, threw on a bathrobe that she found in the closet, then went rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until she located a few bobby pins and a screwdriver.

 _So if I were Vulpes, I would be keeping my weapon stash … where? This is a one-level house, but I think it has a basement. And if the previous owners were rich, it definitely has a safe or two._ She discovered a safe in the bedroom and picked the lock only to find NCR money and other junk that the original homeowners had left behind. _Grr. Waste of a bobby pin. Stupid dead people, at least keep a pistol or something in your safe. Not like it would have saved you, but still._

She had to scour the house several times looking for more bobby pins. The lock to the basement was hard, and when she finally found a locked safe and a crate that looked like they could be the appropriate size, they were both extremely difficult. Cautious of her limited supply of pins, she took her time. The crate was the first to open, and it contained a lot of weapons and armor. She carefully noted where every item was placed, even making a quick sketch on a pad that she'd found upstairs, before gently removing everything. _Damn it, it's not in here._ She placed everything back in its proper position and gently relocked the crate.

The safe took a little bit longer, and she was growing concerned about the time factor. Eventually, she was able to get it open with the second-to-last bobby pin and found the pack that he carried on missions, the one he had in the woods. _Jackpot._ Again, she marked the position of every item on the pad, then took them out until she found something that fit the description of what she was looking for.

It was an oblong object with two buttons, one blue with the sign of two electrical bolts quivering, presumably charging, the other red with those same bolts pointing down from a mountaintop. _Charge and detonate?_ Six looked through the rest of the bag, finding no further parts or an instruction manual. She put back everything that she had found below the object and took it upstairs; after hesitating a moment, she also grabbed a revolver, an SMG and a lantern. _If someone comes in the door, I'm in trouble anyway, so I might as well just shoot first. Really, I would love to shoot first.  
_

Waiting for the right time was torturous, mostly because Six was trying to quiet the voice in her head, the one that told her to make bad, risky decisions. It was the voice that had told her to ask Caesar to fight in the arena, to shoot Vulpes instead of Boone, to get in that stupid question and answer game in the woods. So far, the voice had a zero percent track record for suggesting anything remotely helpful, so she'd learned to listen to it just so she would know what _not_ to do. This time, it was telling her to take the guns, disengage the terminal lock on the door, and run down to the slave pens and join Cass the moment that the fighting started. _But that would be dumb. They'd know I was involved and massacre the whole lot of us. I need to stay here and trust that I can get out on my own._ The voice hissed at her, calling her a coward, asking her if she'd broken. _Shut up, brain! What have you done for me lately?_

It was four-thirty when she finally heard people yelling, followed by gunfire. Closing her eyes, she pressed the blue button until the device began emitting a sustained beep, then hit the red one. The shock felt like her body was trying to flip inside-out, but all the lights instantly turned off and she heard the terminal lock on the door disengage. _Ha! Take that! That's for when you did that in Vegas, fuckhead. Turnabout is fair play._ But the countdown had started.

She leaped up, holding the lantern in one hand, while she gathered the weapons and device and ran back downstairs. Taking a quick look at the drawing she had made, she carefully but quickly placed everything in its proper location in the bag, the voice in her head screaming when she put the last gun back. Six lowered the bag into the safe, locked the exterior, and then exited the basement after making sure she'd left no trace. The yelling and shooting was getting louder. She locked the basement door, blew out the lantern and returned it to where she'd found it, and put the pad and screwdriver in a kitchen cabinet, making sure to destroy the piece of paper with her drawings on it. Hearing voices outside the window, she fumbled with the robe as she fled back into the bedroom, only pausing to shrug it off and hide it in the closet before hopping back into bed. Click, click, click, and all of her chains were back on. Six tried to slow her breathing and appear calm, which was harder than it looked after the door slammed back.


	19. A Friend Of The Devil Is A Friend Of Mine

Lucius stormed into the bedroom, looking ready to explode. "You did this," he hissed, snatching the covers out of her hand and pulling them back, looking for some evidence of wrongdoing on her part. Vulpes followed him into the room, and she saw Alerio out in the hallway. Alerio caught her eye and gave his shoulders a slight shrug.

"What's happening?" she asked. "I heard shooting."

Lucius grabbed her by the throat and yanked her up to the headboard, straining her chained limbs until she yelped. "I know you were involved!" he growled. _What did I do to piss you off so badly, anyway? Are you still angry about me breaking your ribs? That was almost two years ago. Get over it._

Vulpes caught hold of Lucius's hand and pulled it away. She sank back down, trying to look confused and scared, which wasn't much of a stretch. "Don't touch my property," Vulpes snarled.

"Lucius, she's chained to the bed," Alerio pointed out, trying to defuse the situation. "Everything looks exactly how I left it. Why don't we go check?"

"I _know_ you did it," Lucius said one last time before the other two led him away.

"What did I do?" she called after them.

Six heard clanking sounds, indistinct voices. They must have been looking in the basement to see if the weapon was where it was supposed to be. She tried to remember if it had warmed up or flashed an extra light or anything after she had detonated it, but from what she could recall, it had gone as dead as all the other electronics. After a few minutes, she was able to distinguish their voices again.

"You're telling me that this girl had absolutely nothing to do with all of the slaves in the pen suddenly freeing themselves from their chains, grabbing hidden guns around the city and running off into the hills without their collars detonating?" Lucius, unsurprisingly. "That sounds like exactly the sort of thing she'd have planned."

"If you can explain to Caesar how she accomplished this while chained to a bed and not leaving the house, I'm sure he'll be interested in hearing your theory." Vulpes sounded irritated. "Otherwise, I suggest that we start looking for the _actual_ perpetrator. For example, one of the Brotherhood members who we saw fighting with the resistance up north. It was their device to start with, after all. I'm sure there are more copies than the few we obtained in Hidden Valley."

"I was watching the door the whole time, Lucius," Alerio volunteered _._ "She didn't go anywhere. What would she have to gain from it if she didn't escape herself?"

"Fine, fine. Should we go talk to Caesar?"

"He will summon us if need be," Vulpes said. "He's already dispatched centurions and squads to retrieve them. This is something that can be handled at lower levels, and does not require our personal involvement."

"Or you just want to get back to fucking your whore." _Thanks, Lucius! Always a pleasure._

"Jealousy is so unbecoming, Lucius," said Vulpes silkily. "I know you were disappointed not to be able to acquire a slave yourself today, but I'm sure you'll get your chance later." The door clicked shut.

A few minutes later, he entered the bedroom. "Join us for dinner."

Six tried to sit up as he undid the lock on her wrist. "I understand that you and Alerio exchanged some harsh words earlier," he said quietly. Six had almost forgotten about that. "You're allowed to spit venom and curse at me, because I find it funny, but _not_ at any of my men. Do not show further disrespect in front of them. You'll have the chance to make it up tonight. I trust you'll be sufficiently obedient."

His tone was cold and overly formal, and she knew this was one of those high-stakes situations, where it wasn't just a game, where she had to obey or things would get ugly. She'd forgotten that the way to advance one's career in the Legion was by killing the person above you, and that meant he couldn't show any perceived weaknesses to Alerio. And having a mouthy, temperamental slave that openly calls your entire system of belief bullshit was definitely a weakness around here.

This wasn't a fight worth having, she decided. It had been a damned long couple of days, and if the slaves and Cass had really gotten away, she'd scored an enormous victory without any consequences. No one would have to know. "I'll be good," she said.

"Excellent." He unlocked her legs and helped her up. "You can even have a glass of wine. We found some in the cellar." His tone was almost, _almost_ back to normal, but she could still hear the edge. _Tonight's game is 'be charming and impress my subordinate.' I can play nice for a night._

He walked her out to the living room. Alerio was attempting to prepare something for dinner by candlelight, and from the grumbling, he wasn't having much success. "I didn't know you were allowed to drink for pleasure," she said.

"Frumentarius exception. If we didn't practice on occasion, we'd get sloppy when we had to do it for work. Anyway, it's _wine,_ not whatever concoction you were drinking back in the Hub. Wine is practically tradition to celebrate. And it's been a good week, outside of today's incident."

"Was it that bad?" she asked.

"There weren't many casualties, but something like that hurts morale," he said. "The men expect entertainment and trophies of war after a victory like this. When it doesn't come, it's a disappointment to them."

"I certainly understand," she said, faking a smile. _Let's pretend I'm intelligent and charming and not at all responsible for what happened! Let's pretend that you're not talking about selling human beings!_ "I'd love a glass of that wine, please."

She took a mental note of possible conversation topics that didn't have a chance of going bad, and started with the easiest one. "Alerio, sir, may I ask where you were born?" Vulpes smiled at her choice of words.

"No 'sir' is required, Six, unless you want me to call you Courier again. It must have been tiring, having people call you a job title instead of a name."

"Yes, it was," she said. "Especially since it was a job I wasn't any good at. I can only remember making one delivery, and since that ended with someone stealing my package, shooting me in the head and burying me alive, I think I must have been a pretty poor courier."

"To answer your question, Six, I'm from a small tribe in the heart of Colorado," Alerio said. "We were blessed with frequent rains, which let us grow crops much more robust than those you'd find in the Mojave, but also long winters. It was at the end of one of those long winters that the Legion came. We were all starving, the elderly and children were beginning to die, so when the Legion arrived, not a shot was fired. We immediately assimilated to survive. Our name is lost to history, but you might have heard of our chief rivals, the Hangdogs."

"I've heard of them!" Six said. "Antony, the houndmaster at the Fort, said he used to be a Hangdog."

"The legionaries from Colorado have a reputation for keeping more of their tribal identity than others," Vulpes said. "Didn't they have a yearly festival, ages ago, Alerio? Something to do with helping the dogs who had died in combat pass to the next life? It eventually died out as they assimilated more, but it was always a good time. I think that's why Caesar allowed it for so long."

"The camp always smelled terrible afterward," Alerio said, crinkling his nose. "Burnt paper and wet dog."

"So your tribe had a lot of food shortages?" she asked Alerio. "Is that how you learned to be so resourceful a cook?"

"Correct, Six. If the Legion didn't consider cooking women's work, or maybe even if I hadn't turned out to be a skilled infiltrator, I would have liked to do more of that. The food around here is beastly. Slaves don't have much motivation to cook things that taste good or are healthy. On that note, dinner will be ready shortly."

"What are you making?" Six asked.

"Roasted chicken with a salad. I looked for things in the refrigerator that would have gone bad first and don't require any electronics to cook them. That's why I'm over here, to tell you the truth. My own stove is electric; this one is gas. I guess I could have roasted something over a fire, but we've been ordered to limit the number of fires we're using in open air."

"Why is that?" she asked politely.

"This area is very vulnerable to windstorms," Vulpes said, topping off her glass of wine. "Fires spread and become infernos. You can see the evidence if you look for certain markings on the trees."

"You'll have to teach me how to identify these markings," Six said to Vulpes, with a slight smile and a raise of her eyebrows. _Am I doing okay?_ He nodded back, indicating that she was.

They continued to chat lightly over dinner. The conversation was pleasant, and the alcohol was helping keep tabs on her repeated intrusive thoughts of attacking them with the cutlery. After an hour or so, Alerio got up and glanced out the skylight. "Well, I should be getting back home."

"No, stay a while," Vulpes offered. "I'm thankful for you cooking us dinner. My home is your home." He glanced at Alerio, ran his hand down Six's thigh, and smirked. "And my property is your property." From the glitter in Alerio's eyes as he eyed Six, he'd definitely caught the meaning of that. She wished that she'd been able to put on clothing.

"You know, I think I'll take you up on that offer. Give me a minute to wash up."

When Alerio had gone, Six turned to Vulpes, glaring. "I thought you said if I kept you entertained-"

"Things have changed," he said smoothly, holding up a bobby pin. _Oops._

"You left it in the basement. I'm guessing that it slipped out of your pocket in the dark. I was able to pick it up before the others noticed. Other than that, very clean work."

Once again, Six was confused. Vulpes seemed almost proud. She remained quiet while he continued.

"Men who can be killed by slaves are not worthy of being legionaries, and men who pout and sulk because their prizes were taken away need to consider what is truly motivating them. But I suspect that will not be a popular viewpoint. Alerio is one of the few who will swear that you're not involved. You should keep him happy. Do whatever he wants you to."

"No." That was one line she wasn't willing to cross.

"Should we go chase after the escaped captives, then, instead? Which of your friends accompanied them? I'm guessing the drunk. You seemed very invested in keeping the Brotherhood girl as far away from the Legion as possible. So where did she and the doctor go?"

"Somewhere that even Caesar won't dare to follow." Six was happy to provide this little bit of misdirection. Of course, they'd think she was talking about Zion.

"Utah is quite a walk." _Ha ha, you fell for it._ She forced a fleeting look of worry across her face. "Very dangerous roads. Mostly our territory. They'll find few allies out there. And the others … well, a large group of escaped slaves isn't going to be able to run very fast. Or very far." This hit a little closer to home. Cass hadn't told her where they were planning on going, so that she couldn't be forced to give up the information in a situation like this. But it was true. They couldn't have gotten far. "How many Vaults are in this area?" _God damn it._ The remainders of her army were still in Vault 13, just a few days away.

"Stop using my friends as fucking pawns," she hissed.

"Then obey Alerio when he returns," he said.

"And if he kills me?"

"Did you think I was going to leave you two alone? I'm far too jealous for that. It won't be anything you haven't done before. You should be used to this by now."

"I'll never be used to any of this," she said.

"Good." They both looked up as Alerio reentered the room, dressed only in a tunica. Vulpes shoved her onto the floor. "Go on."

Alerio stood in front of the couch, staring at Six on the floor. He looked … well, hungry was the only word she could think of. So did Vulpes, for that matter. She'd been lying to herself thinking this would end any other way. "How … may I serve you?" she asked, each word like ashes in her mouth.

And all the gods and demons must have been on Six's side that day, because a hard knock on the door startled them all.


	20. Mutually Assured Destruction

The legionaries looked away, and Six took the opportunity to scramble up onto the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "See who it is, Alerio," said Vulpes, clearly irritated at having his fun interrupted.

Alerio looked through the hole in the door as the knock sounded again. "It's a recruit." He peered further. "Scratch that. It's someone badly disguised as a recruit. A woman."

Six's heart started hammering in her chest as Alerio continued. "She's about to try to pick the lock." She heard the grating of the bobby pin in the door. She stood up, and Vulpes grabbed her by the waist. He dragged her back to the bedroom, tossing her face-up on the bed and chaining her arms as she struggled. "Who's coming to get you?" he snarled at her.

"No one," she said, desperately. "They were supposed to run."

"And you believed that? That they'd just leave you here? They wouldn't even take Caesar's pardon if it meant sacrificing you, and you thought they'd walk out of the city with a clear conscience?" Now that he'd said it, she knew it was true. It would have cheered her up to know Cass wouldn't have left her behind, if she wasn't about to see her friend waltz into a death trap.

Vulpes pulled out the gag from the end table and buckled it around her mouth. He checked to make sure she had a clear view to the living room from her position and retrieved a .44 magnum from his armor. "Watch, then. See where bravery and noble intentions get her." _NononoNONONO._

"Now she's giving up and … no, she's going to try to ram the door with her shoulder," Alerio called back. "Persistent bitch. What should I do?"

"Let her do it three times, then unlock it," Vulpes ordered, returning to the living room. He readied his pistol and pointed it at the entryway. Six scratched her palms until the skin bled, kicking at nothingness with her free legs. _I'm not going to watch my friend die here. I'm not going to watch her be tortured or shot down like a dog._ Her heart paused with every slam against the door. Finally, after the third one, Alerio slid the deadbolt. A moment later, the door crashed open, and a figure stumbled into the room. Alerio slapped her across the face, and she fell over, sprawled on the floor, fumbling for a gun. The woman tried to get up, but Vulpes's kick in the chest sent her back to the ground. Another kick, and her 10mm flew out of her hand, spinning into the corner.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Rose of Sharon Cassidy," Vulpes purred.

Six bit at her gag until she tasted blood, trying to scream, as he continued. "Get up and remove that armor. It's disgraceful to see a woman wear it." She noticed he was using the look-how-important-I-am Legion tone.

"Fuck you, doghead," Cass spat. Vulpes laughed, then kicked her in the stomach. Wheezing, Cass tried to roll over on her side, and Alerio grabbed her underneath her arms and yanked her to her feet.

"Take it off or I'll have him dislocate your shoulders."

"Can't even do your own dirty work anymore?" she sneered. Six made an inarticulate sound in the back of her throat. Cass looked over, eyes widening as she saw her friend. "Six!" Cass tried to break free from Alerio's grip, but only bought herself another trip back to the ground.

"I suppose I'll have to bring out our mutual friend to ensure your compliance. Alerio, tie her arms and sit her down."

Her panic level increased as he returned to the bedroom. "Fight me, try to scream, and see what I'll do," he hissed, undoing her gag. She stilled instantly, and he unlocked the cuffs. "Go sit on the couch." She stood up and did as he asked, head lowered. Cass was already on the couch, hands tied behind her back, wearing only an undershirt and shorts. Judging by the lacerations on her arms and legs, Alerio had cut the armor off of her. Vulpes pulled up a chair and sat across from them while Alerio stood nearby.

"Let's list your crimes, Rose of Sharon Cassidy," he said softly. "You've worked against the Legion for years. You helped foil us at Hoover Dam. You freed the Courier and her doctor friend from Vegas. You corrupted one of my best men and turned him against us, which resulted in his death. You organized a slave revolt here. And you've just broken into my home, armed, dressed as one of your superiors, who you probably killed in your little escape attempt earlier. What should the punishment be for your sins?" He drew his gun again and pointed it at Cass.

"Don't hurt her," Six said, instantly.

"Maybe I'll hurt you instead, and make her watch. Or maybe we should continue with our activities from earlier. I don't mind an audience while I work."

"Do that instead. Please." Cass shook her head back and forth wildly.

"You'd go that far for a friend?" _Yes, and you fucking know it, which is why you're always pointing a gun at their heads. Except it's usually a metaphorical gun, not a literal one._

"Don't do this, Six. It's over," said Cass. She looked at their captors. "Guilty as charged. Can you at least kill me quickly? Not that I'd break under torture. I just don't want to have to sit here looking at your smug fucking faces for one more minute."

 _No one else is going to die for me. Not again._ Six slid off of the couch, onto her knees, ignoring Cass's protests. She caught Vulpes's gaze and held it. " _Please._ I'll do anything. Do what you want, be who you want. Just don't kill her."

He paused, considering. "Alerio, take the girl and leave us for a moment." The other man pulled Cass to her feet and steered her to the spare bedroom, closing the door behind them. Six could hear Cass's inarticulate curses through the walls.

"I told you what I want, back in the woods." Vulpes placed the barrel of the gun under her chin and used it to tilt her head up. He was no longer using his arrogant tone; instead, his voice was earnest and dangerous. "It's not your compliance. I don't want a good little slave girl, to use your words."

"Exactly," she said quietly. "Kill her and it breaks me. And not in the way you're hoping for. Do you want some dead-eyed, brainless woman, sleepwalking through life? Or do you want me by your side? The famous Courier of the Mojave? A worthy opponent?"

"What else can you offer me?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, and then lightning struck. _This can fix everything. Two problems, one solution._ "Vault 15," she said. "I can take you there."

"And what's in Vault 15?" he asked.

"Weapons," she said, her confidence rising. "Lots of weapons. Special variants, ones you haven't seen before. You don't know much about energy weapons. I can show you how to use them. I think we've even got a Fat Man there."

"What's a Fat Man?"

"A miniature nuclear bomb launcher." He raised his eyebrows. "That might be useful against certain enemies. Or were you planning on destroying the Brotherhood of Steel with your sharpened sticks?"

"Careful, now." Vulpes paused, then pulled Six to her feet. "I'll consider it. Now we need to discuss some things with Miss Cassidy, and I _strongly_ suggest you stay quiet through our entire conversation. Or I'll be forced to do something you'll regret." In the background, they could hear Cass ranting. Apparently, having decided she wasn't getting out of this alive, she'd decided to use up all of her spare profanity. "Fuck you, Inculta, you cocksucker, you goddamned soulless Legion bastard, I'll see you in hell and I'll be waiting to shove my shotgun so far up your ass -"

"Alerio! Bring that insolent woman back in." The legionary re-entered the living room, shoving Cass ahead of him. Cass sported a black eye and bloody nose from earlier. "Kneel, Miss Cassidy."

"Fuck off. I'm not going to die on my knees."

Without warning, Vulpes lashed out, backhanding Six. Dazed, she stumbled back against the couch, the skin of her cheek stinging from the impact. She'd bitten into her lip, and flinched at the taste of blood on her tongue. "I said, kneel, Miss Cassidy. And be silent."

Cass growled, but forced herself down to her knees. Six had gotten her bearings, and sat on the couch, resting her face in her hands, pulling at her hair. _I don't want to watch this, I don't want to hear it._

"For your crimes, I would see you brought before Caesar and lashed to a cross. But even though I'm a _soulless Legion bastard,_ as you put it, I can be reasonable. Confess and you'll both live." Six lifted her head.

"Fine," Cass said. "I did … all that stuff you said. Working against the Legion, breaking out of Vegas, and trying to save my friends." She raised her chin in defiance. "And I don't regret any of it."

"Don't forget freeing the slaves here. And disrupting our electronics." _Oh, you crafty fucker. You get her to take the fall for that, and I'm no longer under suspicion._

"That too," said Cass, who clearly wasn't listening closely. "All of it. Don't hit Six again."

"Then what should we do with you?" he asked. "You can't very well walk out of here unscathed. It would reflect poorly on us. Should we cut off a hand? Sew shut that vulgar mouth of yours? Do you have any suggestions, Alerio? It's been some time since you cast judgment on a profligate."

Both Six and Cass looked to the junior legionary. Alerio was watching the girl on her knees, and his eyes glittered strangely. Cass noticed and inclined her head towards him with a faint smile. "Maybe I could make it worth your friend's while."

"You have no self-respect, Miss Cassidy." Vulpes sounded amused.

"I won't be judged on my morals by the likes of you," Cass hissed. She turned to her friend. "What do I have to do to get her out of here too?" Six tried to turn to face Cass, but Vulpes grabbed her hair and jerked it.

"Do not look at her. Do not speak to her." Six stared at a fixed point in space near the bedroom door. Returning to Cass, he said, "That's not an option, so don't even try. It's your fate we're concerned with now. Alerio? I believe she made you an offer."

"I would like that," said Alerio, softly. "Very much."

"So be it. Do with her as you will, tonight and tomorrow, but leave her alive. Return her to the desert outside the walls by sunset." Alerio smirked, clearly pleased. Vulpes thought for a moment. "Yes, that's satisfactory. Not as bloody as I would have liked, but there is some poetic justice. You freed the captives, and so you must serve in their place. And don't try to come back to rescue your friend. She and I will be leaving tomorrow as well, to fulfill her portion of the bargain."

Alerio pulled Cass up by her arms and began steering her towards the door. Cass called out, "Six, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I ever came in here. I was trying to save you and I fucked up. Forgive me?"

Six turned her head away, looking at the ground. Vulpes spoke up. "She won't respond. Unlike you, Six has learned the lesson of obedience, after much remedial instruction, and I've ordered her not to speak during this conversation."

"You have no _right_ , no _fucking right_ , to use her name. Six, I can't even ..." Six may have been forbidden from speaking, but she glanced over to the floor beneath them. A few drops of water spattered the ground in front of the red-headed girl. Tears. Cass never cried.

Then Alerio opened the door and they were gone.


	21. Who Truly Stuck The Knife In First?

Six's false submission melted away as soon as the front door shut. "What the hell was that?" she snarled. "You can't just give away my friends like they're fucking door prizes."

"I think I just did." _Grrr._ She searched the room for Cass's lost 10mm, only to realize that it had spun off far underneath the refrigerator. _Not like that would really have worked, but I need some form of indiscriminate violence right now._ Her eyes settled on an empty wine glass from earlier, and she snatched it up and threw it at Vulpes's head before he had time to stop her. He ducked to the side, and it smashed harmlessly into the wall.

"What would you have had me do instead?" he said. "Send her to Caesar for crucifixion? Break her arms and legs and leave her outside the door for the other legionaries to find? If I'd just let her go on her way, Alerio would have known something was wrong. And she came up with her own punishment. From what I've heard, she's fucked half of the NCR, and Freeside, too. I hardly think this will traumatize her greatly. Certainly better than losing a limb."

Everything he said was true, but she was still supremely pissed off. "If you hadn't acted like a sadistic _jackass_ and let me think that you were going to murder her, I would be a lot happier right now. And you slapped me." In the grand scheme of things, that was pretty minor, but her face hurt, and she didn't want to think about anything else that had happened. The taunting voice in the back of her head had returned. _So Cass came to save you. She walked back from freedom through the gates of hell to find you. And this is how it ends? With her taking the fall for everything? You didn't even try to fight, try to find a gun, try to stop anything._

"If I hadn't shown I would punish you if she disobeyed, she'd have come back to try to free you the moment she left. And then I'd have to kill her. You did a good job of acting like you were scared to death of me, by the way. Full marks."

"That wasn't acting _._ " _You fucking fucked-up wreck, you don't deserve a rescue. You deserve to die here. You should have been on the cross in Vegas, rather than Boone. You'd be nothing but bones in the desert. And your friends would be better off._

"We should go to bed. We've got a long day ahead of us if we're going to Vault 15." She scoffed, and he turned on her. "Are you thinking of reneging? I can have Alerio bring Miss Cassidy back if you're reconsidering. But I guarantee you're not going to get a deal with better terms than the one you've got. Now, since you've been so well-behaved today, you can choose what we do tonight." _Good girl, Legion bitch. Have a treat. Woof._ She wanted to rip his face off. Instead, she bit at her own wrist, where the shackle had been before.

Vulpes grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her face. "What do you think you're doing?"

"My brain is trying to kill me," Six said.

He gave her the look he'd given her before when she implied that her mental health was anything less than pristine, an expression that she would have called concern had it been worn by Arcade but that she knew to be simple possessiveness. "Well, we can't have that." Satisfied that she wasn't going to tear her wrist open, he pulled her towards the bedroom.

"If I really get to decide what to do tonight, can I just go to sleep?"

"No." O _f course not._ She sat on the bed while he began to undress. "I have a better idea. Tell me about your revenge."

"What kind of game is this?" she asked.

"Hopefully a fun one." He pushed her down on the bed, a hand on her stomach. "Tell me what you'd do to us, if you had the chance. If you were the one in control."

"Usually your traps aren't this obvious."

"Do it, or I will, and I'm sure you don't want to hear about any plans I might have for _your_ little friends." White-hot anger surged through her. _So you want to play at this?_

"Well …" she said in a drawl, "I think I'd have to start with Lucius. He seems to really hate me, and I don't know why."

Fingers trailed up her ankle to behind her knee. "Jealousy, as I said before. He desires what I have."

"He's been the head of the Praetorians for a long time. So I'm guessing he was one of the ones who set Joshua Graham on fire." She was pleased to see him flinch at the taboo name. "I think I'd have to turn him over to Graham, then."

He pulled her leg up and kissed the back of her calf. "The Burned Man is a myth."

"Bullshit. You asked me about Utah earlier. You know that I know he's alive, and I know that you know I met him. Graham may have found religion again, but I'm sure he wouldn't pass up the opportunity for his own vengeance. Those burns looked like they _hurt_."

"It's funny how you claim the moral high ground and then pal around with that man," he said, giving up the pretense. "You do know the sort of things he's done, right? Does that all go away just because he claims he's sorry?"

"He doesn't just claim he's sorry, he _is_ sorry."

"And he shows his repentance … how? By re-enacting wars with the local tribals? He's not going around bringing welcome baskets to the neighbors and singing hymns." He brushed his hand lower. "That is why I loathe Mormons. They're a pack of hypocrites. No one who really believes that the meek will inherit the earth could produce a person like that."

"You have a vendetta against _Mormons?_ That's like hating … sugar, or something. They're the nicest people in the West." She tried not to gasp as he pulled further up her body, still moving his fingers.

"Once again, you confuse being nice with being good. If you truly understood the depths of _that man's_ depravity, you would know that being set on fire every single day wouldn't come close to enough of a punishment for him, by your own standards. He was far more of a monster than any of us here today could ever hope to be. A brilliant man, though too prideful, which was what brought him down in the end. I'd have him back as Legate in a second, were it up to me. But evil to the core. You can't just say a _magic word_ and wash away sins like that." He paused. "And I'm from Utah. I'm allowed to hate Mormons. What would you do about Caesar?"

"I'd shoot him in the head."

"That's disappointingly simple." He bit the inside of her thigh, gently.

"Exactly. No complex and drawn-out tortures. To prove that we're ..." her breath caught in her throat as he slid a finger inside of her. "That we're the better people. Mercy is a virtue."

"Mercy is for the weak." As if to prove it, he attacked her with his lips and tongue.

A few minutes later, she continued, raggedly, "I've only known Alerio for a day but I think I can come up with an appropriate punishment."

He pulled up to look her in the eye. "And what's that?"

"Toss him in the arena, against a bunch of slave women. Unarmed. For what you said he's done. Watch them tear out his eyes, rip his limbs off. Then set the mongrels on him."

"Hmm. How very diabolical of you. What happened to compassion?"

She snapped, "Mercy is for people who aren't fucking my friends against their will." _Probably right now, he's got his hands on Cass, wrapped around her throat and – no, don't think about that. Cass is strong. She'll survive. We all have to survive._ "Or people who _arrange_ it." She tried to pull her legs to her, but he grabbed her knees and hauled himself up, settling his weight between her spread thighs.

"Am I to assume, then, that I wouldn't get the benefit of your fabled mercy?" he hissed at her, biting the shell of her ear. "You did try to shoot me in the head back in the Hub. Was that my one chance for a quick death at your hands?"

"Yes," she spat as he lined himself up to her, slowly pressing in, her hands scratching lightly across his back until he was deep inside her. She tried to encourage him to move by bucking her hips, but he just laid still against her, a slight smile on his lips. Then, in a graceful movement, he rolled them, so that she was balanced on top of his supine form. "Tell me what horrifying tortures you'd inflict on me, Miss Last, Best Hope of Humanity."

"I'd cut out your tongue," she said coldly, as he grabbed her, pulling her down. "Because I'm tired of listening to you run your goddamn mouth all the time. I'd cut off … any important body parts. Then I'd string you up on a cross and leave you to die alone in the desert. Slowly."

"Lies," Vulpes snarled as she twined his hands across his throat. He batted them away and grabbed her wrists, yanking her forward, lips against her jawline, sucking hard enough to bruise but not break skin. "I know you wouldn't go that far. You're too invested in pretending to be _good_ to torture anyone. Not even me."

"You don't know anything about me, then." She writhed against him and broke free, pulling back to score her nails down his chest, until she raised red welts.

"I know _everything_ about you." He thrust up, as if to emphasize his point. "I know how exquisite you feel wrapped around me. I know what you taste like. I know how you shudder and gasp when you come." He tilted her head, making sure she was focused on his words. "And I know your name."

"Congratulations, you and about everyone else in the universe. _"_ The rest was nothing she hadn't heard before. "I have my own propaganda posters. Do you want a cookie?"

"You are Rosalind Margaret Goodwin, born in 2261 in Klamath," he said, smoothly. "Your mother was in the military and died in Bullhead City, when you were nine, and your father drank himself to death a few years afterward. You had one older brother, an NCR ranger, who was killed during the First Battle of Hoover Dam." His eyes raked down her body, narrowing when he reached where they were joined. "And how _proud_ he would be if he saw you right now."

Six froze. She didn't believe it, didn't _want_ to believe it, but it all sounded so horribly familiar. The names lit up nerve endings that had been sheared away by Benny's bullet. And as a spy, he could access information that she couldn't even begin to touch. White lightning flashed behind her eyes. He'd known about this for ages, and had held onto it until he could use it to hurt her the most. _What a pointlessly fucking cruel thing to do, to twist the knife like that._ The word _knife_ stuck in her mind, and she cast her gaze to the bedside table, where the straight razor from the night before still lay. In an instant, they both realized who was closer.

"Don't even think about it, or I'll call Alerio," he hissed, fingers digging into her hip. "You can watch as I slit your friend's pretty throat with that knife." In the heat of the moment, she'd forgotten about Cass.

"Bastard. Why would you do this?" She squirmed, still moving atop him.

"Because I wanted to. Because I can." _Same as always, then._

"You want to know what I'll do to you?" she hissed. "I'll see you _burn._ I'll see you all fucking die, in front of me, and I don't care if I'll burn with you as long as I'm sure that you're dead."

In a sudden burst of anger, she leaned down and sank her teeth into his neck, drawing blood. She'd expected a violent reprisal, but instead, he moaned in what sounded very much like pleasure and pulled her head closer. It was enough to send her over, sharp and bright and brilliant all at once.

When he was finished, he smiled at her and stroked her hair. "My little whore," he whispered, and for the first time, she felt like one.


	22. Don't Worry, If There's A Hell Below We're All Going To Go

Six had a nice surprise waiting for her the next morning.

When Alerio hadn't come over by noon, Vulpes had gotten suspicious and had gone to his house. The younger legionary was alone, shirtless, and tied to a chair, with long scrapes from his throat to his navel. According to the story he told, Cass had talked him into sitting in the chair, then slammed his head into the wall until he lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was tied up and the door to the backyard was open in the wind. The fruit trees he'd told Six about were high enough that someone agile could climb them and drop over the fence.

Six had to bite back a laugh. _Oh, Cass, you succubus._ Alerio had seemed more embarrassed than angry, although that may have been the concussion talking. She wasn't even too upset when Vulpes gave Alerio permission to go after Cass. She was sure the red-headed woman was long gone, and if Alerio made it out of the city in time to catch up to her, he deserved the incredibly painful death he would likely suffer. Although from the slightly clouded and distant look in his eyes, one that Six had seen before on any number of NCR troops stumbling into Cass's bedroom at the Lucky 38, he might be more inclined to send her flowers than try to murder her.

After Alerio left to go see the doctor, Vulpes turned on her. "Do you think that was funny?" he demanded.

She decided against the obvious lie. "Yes."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "You're right. It was. Go put on some clothing. We need to talk to Caesar about Vault 15."

Sorting through the ridiculous clothing, Six selected a modest peasant dress and put it on. "Why do I have to go?" she called out to the other room. "I don't think he'll be very happy to see me."

"You need to convince him that you'll be no threat if let out of the city," he responded. "So act broken. I have something that will help with that."

Vulpes reappeared in the doorway, adjusting his uniform. He held out a thin, circular piece of metal. She glared at it.

"Is that a _collar?"_ she said.

"It's not explosive." When Six took a step back, he sighed. "I could just whip you until you bleed, then show him the marks. Would you prefer that?"

Six cursed under her breath, but let him fasten it on her neck. She realized her mistake as soon as he pulled a controller from his pack.

"You said it wasn't explosive," she snapped, hands clawing at the metal band.

"It's not." Vulpes pressed a button. A searing pain shot through her skull, and she fell to the floor, screaming. A minute later, when she'd recovered enough to simply lay crying on the ground, he continued, "Brotherhood technology. Normally it would wear off sooner, but the scribe we caught said the pain lasts longer on people with neural implants. This will prove to Caesar that you're not going to try to kill me the moment we leave on this trip." His eyes narrowed. "Which you were clearly planning on doing."

"I wasn't -"

"Don't lie," he hissed. "I know you. You'd be trying to grab a gun from any corpse we ran across the moment I lowered my guard, or push me off a cliff, or maybe the whole Vault is booby-trapped. You'll be going in first, by the way." He slipped the controller back in the bag. "And now that it's activated, you're going to have a hard time getting it off without the access code. If I don't put that in twice a day, it'll start shocking you and won't stop. So again, killing me would be a very bad choice on your part."

Six wanted to pound the floor in frustration. She had, in fact, been planning on finding a way to shoot him, or at least knock him out so she could escape. Because if she couldn't get away, he was definitely, _definitely_ going to kill her when it happened.

"Get up," Vulpes said. "Don't wash your face. You look more defeated when you've been crying. And were I you, I would be _very_ polite and obedient in front of Caesar. Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't look at him. I plan on demonstrating this collar's abilities to my Lord, but how many times I do it depends on how well-behaved you are."

Six got to her feet, unsteadily, and followed him out the door. They walked for fifteen minutes, and she didn't stop staring at the ground the whole time. She could hear the snickers of the legionaries as she passed, and she was afraid if she had to look at them she would have to punch someone in the face. Instead, she calculated optimal weapon arrangements in her head until they entered a large building and she was pushed to her knees.

"My Lord," Vulpes began, "The Courier girl has advised me of an interesting location ..."

She tuned them out, reminiscing over the weapons she had lost when the Lucky 38 burned, until she saw Vulpes pull out the controller. She swallowed deeply and clenched her eyes shut. The pain was worse this time, but she didn't break into tears afterwards. Vulpes hauled her back to her knees and she remained silent.

"Was that painful, Courier?" asked Caesar.

"Yes, my Lord," she said, voice cracking. _Might as well do this right._

"Will you obey me when we're outside the city?" Vulpes, this time.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"Yes, _what?"_

"Yes, master." A bloody massacre bloomed behind her eyelids. _You'll all pay and I'll watch and laugh as you die._

"Interesting work, Inculta," Caesar commented. "I didn't realize she'd break so quickly. Courier, I thought you were tougher than this."

"She still fights me, my Lord. It will take some time before she learns to obey without the prospect of immediate punishment." Six could feel their eyes on her and bit back a retort. "I expect that she will keep me entertained for a long time to come."

"Very well," Caesar said. "You may go see what weapons this Vault holds. Report back in a week, and we'll see where to go from there. And take a shower before you leave, Inculta. You smell like a whorehouse." She couldn't stop herself from growling under her breath, and Caesar laughed. "Now there's that fighting spirit that gave us so much trouble."

They left shortly after midnight, after sleeping most of the day in preparation. The walk towards Vault 15 was uneventful. Vulpes had managed to find some pants and a shirt for Six, so she wouldn't get eaten by bloatflies in the hills. Six had lied and said there were deathclaw nests on the way to the Vault, so she could have some quiet time to try to think of a way to get out of the collar. Every time she thought she was on her way to a solution, she'd hit a brick wall. Eventually, as she grew more tired, she stopped plotting her escape and simply focused on the events ahead.

She'd wanted to walk through the next day and into the evening, to get as far away from the city as they could, but when her pace slowed around sunset, Vulpes insisted they stop for the night. He'd found a cave, and she napped inside it on a bedroll for a few hours. When she woke up, she was worried that it was too late, but upon leaving the cave, she saw his silhouette, and in the background, the lights of Shady Sands.

"What time is it?" she asked him.

"Close to midnight," he replied. "Will you be able to make it the rest of the way tonight? I'd like to get some sleep myself soon, and I'm not going to be able to do that until we're in the Vault and you're safely chained to something made of steel. Preferably a bed, but I'm not picky about where I fuck you."

She clenched her jaw and refused to respond.

"Nothing to say about that? Finally?" he asked quietly. "I know you've spent this trip planning on ways to get out of this situation, but let me assure you that I've been using the peace and quiet to come up with my own ideas. Most of them involve that collar. Electricity is a marvelous thing, and there's actually a dial on the controller so I can adjust the levels. By the end of this little Vault excursion, I suspect you'll be doing just about anything I ask of you, while still hating me every moment."

He rooted through the pack and tossing her a box of Sugar Bombs and some water. "Here. You'll need your strength." She ate the junk food, trying and failing to think of an escape plan. Dying here tonight, she decided, might not be such a bad idea. Better than waiting for him to get tired of her and kill her like the others who had been in her place before. That could take months, or years, and she'd wish she was dead long before she actually was.

Vulpes glanced at the sky, then pointed to an object in the distance. "A shooting star. Isn't that supposed to be an omen of luck among your people?"

"Is it?" she replied, fighting a smirk.

Six closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and tried to capture every detail of the moment. She needed to memorize this so she could replay it every night in her head, if she was lucky enough to survive.

The sky lit up, orange, then yellow, and she heard a sucking sound. Time stopped for a second, and then the mushroom cloud exploded over Shady Sands with an enormous roar. _It really is a mushroom. I thought that was an exaggeration, but that's exactly what it looks like. Ulysses, you magnificent bastard. You did it._ The blast wave, a few seconds later, knocked them both to the ground. Good thing she'd taken some Rad-X along.

She looked at Vulpes and smiled. For the first time, he was speechless, a look of true shock on his face as he stood up unsteadily. " _What did you do?"_

"Do you like it?" she said calmly, mocking his words from Vegas, so long ago. "I did it for _you._ " When he didn't respond, she continued. "I saw a phrase in one of your old history books that seems like it would fit this situation. This general was defending his city from a siege, and when he saw that it was about to fall, he ordered the whole place torched so the enemy wouldn't get their hands on it. He said, 'I set fire to my house that it may not be polluted by your presence.' Except I set fire to your house, too. You can't see it from here, but Flagstaff is radioactive ashes by now."

The shock from the collar sent her sprawling across the ground. The next three were even worse. He jerked her to her feet. "How did you do it?" She couldn't stop grinning.

"I know a guy," she said. "He had some missiles, and he didn't much care for the NCR, or the Legion, or you in particular. I talked him out of it once. I told him that the world didn't need another Great War, that we could rebuild a great nation on our own. That was a mistake, one that needed fixing. So I called in a favor."

"You know you've just killed thousands of people," he snarled. "For what? For your revenge?"

"No," Six replied. "See, that's the important part. This isn't about revenge." That was a blatant lie, but it was one she could keep telling herself. "It's not about me, or Boone, or Raul, or any of us, although this is the most fucking satisfying thing I've seen in _years_. It's about the message. It's about _history._ Someone, somewhere, is always going to say, 'Hey, wouldn't it be cool if we owned human beings?' And some other assholes, like you, are going to use that to hurt other people, because that's what gets you off. But there's always someone who would rather see the world destroyed than to watch you get your fingers around its throat. Someone like me."

"The Legion will come back," he promised, reaching for his gun. "There's far more of us than there were in those two cities. This isn't over."

"You're probably right. Cockroaches always find a way to survive things like this. But you'll never have Shady Sands, and you'll never have Flagstaff. And you'll never have me again." She waited a beat, as he cocked the revolver. "It's not fun, is it, watching all your friends die in front of you? Knowing you can't stop it? You taught me that."

She turned to the ruined husk of the city, expecting the final shot. _I think I always knew it would end like this. But God, it was worth it._ What she didn't expect was his hollow laughter.

"My _friends?"_ Vulpes hissed. "I thought you knew better. None of us has any friends. Just rivals. Who you've conveniently eliminated. The only way to get ahead in the Legion is to kill the people ahead of you in the hierarchy."

Six frowned. "There's no hierarchy anymore. Caesar's dead."

"And you think he didn't plan for a situation like this? There's an order of succession. Every legionary knows it. And since Caesar's dead, and Lucius is dead, and Lanius is dead, and Aurelius is dead, who _exactly_ do you think the next leader will be?" He gave her a cold smile. "Good plan. Very _dramatic._ But you still don't seem to consider the consequences of your actions."

She backed away, horrified. She'd thought that destroying Flagstaff and killing its leadership would end the Legion. But he was right. There were too many of them, in the Hub, in Vegas, all across the southwest. And as always, he had somehow been two steps ahead of her. She'd taken her nightmare and given him a throne; tossed an army at the feet of a monster.

He continued, voice even, but with a current of manic excitement beneath it. "You should probably run."

"What?" she said, in a daze.

"You should run. Go meet your friends. Plot some futile little rebellion. Consider it a gift, in return for the _exceptional_ one you've just bestowed upon me." Vulpes picked a 10mm pistol out of his bag, emptied the clip, and slid it across the ground. "I think there was some ammo for this on that dead Fiend a mile or two back. Don't want you getting eaten by yao guai, now. I still have plans for you." He tossed the controller for the collar at her. "The code's 3-4-3-1, to disarm it. The unlock one is different, but you'll have to figure that out on your own. Until then, you can wear it as a reminder of your proper place in the world. Slave to the new Caesar. Doesn't that sound nice?"

She took a step back, then another, tensing to flee. But she had to ask."I thought I'd die for this. Why are you letting me go? I'm going to fucking kill you one day, I promise you. This won't end until one of us is dead."

The grin he gave her would haunt her for the rest of her life. "Good. It's no fun if I can't chase you. And, more logically, I can't piece the Legion together while dragging a reluctant prisoner across half of the West. Don't worry. We'll meet again, and I'll teach you what it really means to be mine. I can promise _you_ that." His eyes glittered. "I was right. You have one hell of a darkness in you, Six. I look forward to seeing it in action."

Six spun around and scrambled off into the hills.


	23. You Maniacs, You Blew It Up

Four days later, Six was filling up an empty plastic bottle at a stream by the mountains between Nevada and California when she heard a familiar voice.

"Well, I've got heartaches by the number, troubles by the score ..." In a flash, she was up and running towards the source of the singing.

"Arcade!" Six yelled, probably too loudly. "Arcade! It's me! Arcade!"

" _Six?_ " he called back. "Hold on, I'm coming to get you." But she was already crashing through the brush towards him. She had a brief glimpse of the surprised doctor before she flung her arms around him. A few seconds later, she remembered that he might not be happy with her, and drew back.

"Do you hate me?" she asked breathlessly. "How much do you hate me? I'm so sorry, I know you never wanted something like that on your hands, but -"

"It's fine," Arcade said, laughing. "Remember, I told you if we ever got our hands on some ICBMs, I'd let you make the call? Besides, Ulysses told us what your message meant when we got there, two days before we launched the missiles. I could have said no. Vero could have too. But something had to be done. Was it everything you wanted? Did we kill them all?"

"Most of them," she said, bitterly. "But not enough."

Arcade looked at her, and understanding dawned in his eyes. "Right. Cass said something about that being an issue when we saw you'd made it out. Well, we can kill him later. Don't let it bring you down. I'd rather have you alive with a few loose ends to tie up."

"You always know the right thing to say, Arcade," she said, relieved. She'd spent the past few days kicking herself for the Vault 15 plan, wishing that she'd stayed in the city and let the fire take them all. "Cass found you?"

"We found Cass, yesterday," he corrected. "Those tracking chips worked like a charm. Veronica and I got onto a terminal shortly after leaving the Divide. We located her in the mountains yesterday, and then I went out to look for you this morning while they rested. You look … a lot better than I expected. Cass said you didn't seem to be doing well."

Six thought back to what Cass must have seen, a silent, bleeding shell of a person. Cass wasn't in Vegas, she reminded herself. She'd never seen her in that condition. "Nah. I'm tougher than that. I had to play to the crowd so no one would suspect that I was planning on destroying the city."

"Do you need to rest?" he asked.

"Fuck no," she said. "Let's go find the others and get the hell out of California. I don't know why all those old songs on the radio kept saying how awesome this place is. I'm not going to be planning any vacations here, that's for sure."

As they walked, Arcade updated her on everything he'd heard about the world outside. Six had been worried that their conversation would be awkward. But it was as if no time had passed, as if they'd just left Vault 15 yesterday and nothing horrible had happened in the meantime.

"It hasn't been difficult keeping up with what's going on," Arcade said. "A ton of pirate radio stations cropped up once Shady Sands fell. Most of the NCR troopers and civilians who survived fell back to the north. The Vegas Avengers headed west to meet up with Cass's slave army. I think they're going to try to intercept all the kids that got taken away. Lily and a few other super mutants went to retake Jacobstown, and they'll probably win. The Legion's mostly retreated to the Hub and New Vegas for now, to try to regroup. You're sure Caesar's dead?"

"I didn't go poking around Shady Sands looking for bones, but yeah, I'm pretty sure." She rolled her eyes. "Not that it changes much. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, except smarter and with a personal vendetta against us all."

"What?" He stopped in his tracks. "Oh. _Oh. Shit._ Really?"

"So he said. I don't doubt it, either. We killed everyone else who could have contended for the spot." She bit her lip. "I probably should have thought the aftermath through a little more. They were never going to fall apart when the bombs dropped."

"They weren't," he agreed. "But we still took down most of the leadership and a ton of the ground troops. I'd count this as a win. They'll fall back for a while, and we can get out of here."

Six was glad he hadn't asked her to explain how she got away, mostly because she still wasn't sure herself. "Have you guys thought of somewhere to go?"

"Not really," Arcade said. "We talked about going north for a while and trying to hook up with the NCR remnants, but I'm sick of this whole situation. And all things considered, I'd feel better the farther away we get from here. Do you want to go see your friends in Utah?"

"Maybe for a little bit, so we can rest." She thought for a moment, and realized she'd never told her friends exactly who she'd met in Zion. "Or maybe not. There's a complicating factor. We'll talk it over when we meet up with Cass and Vero."

An hour later, they came upon the small house that Arcade and Veronica had set up as a base. Seconds after they walked in the door, she was slammed to the floor under the weight of an exuberant Cass. "I thought you were dead," the red-headed woman whispered, sounding close to tears. "I thought I'd left you there to die, climbed over the walls and ran off into the hills like some coward-"

"You saved me, you know that?" Six said. "You came back for me. You took the fall. That was, bar none, the bravest goddamn thing I've ever seen anyone do. _Ever._ You're a fucking hero, Cass."

"Don't you mean _Miss_ Rose of Sharon Cassidy?" Cass said mockingly. Six laughed.

Arcade and Veronica were staring at them. "It's an inside joke," Six explained. "It's funny because … actually, it's not funny at all. I guess you had to be there."

"I can tell," said Veronica slowly. "Good to see you alive, Six."

They sat and chatted for a while while Arcade cooked some pasta for everyone. "Why are you still wearing that thing?" asked Cass, gesturing to the collar.

"Because it won't fucking come off, that's why. I think it's Brotherhood issue, and I can't really fiddle with it from this angle. Veronica, do you know how to unlock this damned thing?"

"I think I've seen this before," the dark-haired girl said. "Shock collar, right? I should be able to get it open. Cass, can you get a cloth to put between the metal and her skin? It won't stop the electricity, but it should dull it enough that I can tinker with the mechanics."

Cass returned with a dish towel and a bottle of whiskey, 'for the pain', which Six gratefully took several gulps from. The collar discharged a few times as Veronica fiddled with it, but it hurt a lot less through the cloth. Eventually, Veronica got it open and it fell onto the table, where Cass glared at it.

"Does anyone want to do anything with this?" Cass asked the group.

Everyone shook their heads no. Cass pulled out a hammer and smashed it, and the controller, into pieces, then swept them into the trash bin.

"You, uh, you really don't like those inanimate objects, Cass," Veronica said.

"I hate goddamn slave collars," Cass said fervently. "I just spent the worst few days of my life wearing one, and it wasn't even active. I'd rather smash in some slaver's faces, but they're not here."

"Did you have fun in the Divide?" Six asked Veronica.

"Oh, yeah," Vero replied. "The Brotherhood always said we need to use technology for the best of purposes. And this was definitely the best purpose I could think of for nuclear weapons. I just wish I'd been able to see it up close. But not too close. Your friend Ulysses is … an interesting person. I thought he was going to object once he told Arcade what your message meant, but he just said that he understood wanting revenge."

"He's not my friend," Six said. "More like my enemy, actually. But he's got his own reasons to hate the Legion. On that note, Arcade said you guys mentioned going to Utah? I need to tell you something about that."

Six told them the quick version of her trip to Zion. When she mentioned Graham's name, Cass and Vero didn't react. The clattering of a pan dropping to the floor, however, told her that Arcade, at least, had been keeping up on current events years ago.

"Are you _kidding me_ , Six?" he sputtered. "I know you don't remember anything from before you were shot, but I thought you'd heard enough stories from the NCR rangers to _run the other way_ as soon as you heard that name. God."

"He's changed," she said, stubbornly.

"People like that don't change, Six! I thought Ulysses was bad enough. Are you determined to find the good in every legionary out there?" She winced, and he backtracked quickly. "Sorry. I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean that. But the Malpais Legate? The Burned Man?" Arcade looked at Cass and Veronica's blank faces. "You seriously don't know who that is. What were you guys doing when the Legion first came onto the scene in the Mojave?"

"Probably drinking somewhere," Cass said promptly.

"Hiding in a bunker," Veronica said.

Arcade sighed. "Okay. You all have excuses. So this guy that Six thinks is a _friend_ was one of the founders of the Legion, and the NCR's biggest nightmare in the Mojave. He was the Legate until he messed up the first time they tried to attack Hoover Dam. Then they set him on fire and tossed him into the Grand Canyon."

"Which is why he hates them, and why we'd be safe there," Six said. "They're all terrified of him. Did we have somewhere else to go?"

"Six has a point, Arcade," Veronica said.

"Oh, the Burned Man!" Cass exclaimed, slapping her forehead. "I've heard of that dude. They talked about him at the Outpost. Said the Legion kept trying to kill him, but he wouldn't die. And he and the tribes can protect us, right? Sure, let's go there. Maybe they'll give us a bunch of caps to start a new life once you tell them you nuked Caesar. I still can't believe that no one is going to pay us for that. We could really use the money right now."

"I don't like this plan at all," Arcade said. "But if you three want to try for Utah, I don't have any better ideas. I'll just say that I warned you."

Six thought for a moment. "I don't want to stay there forever. I just want to visit, maybe get some supplies, and then we can leave and go somewhere else. Way the hell away from here. Any requests?"

"I've always wanted to live somewhere that's green," said Arcade. "Where there's trees and you don't dehydrate in three seconds every time you go outside."

"We should go where people know how to enjoy themselves," Cass said firmly.

"The Brotherhood used to talk about a city," Veronica said. "Way to the east, near the ocean. They said that the people there drink all day and dance all night. They worship strange gods and believe that everyone is equally damned, so they might as well have a good time while they're alive."

Cass grinned. "That sounds like our kind of town. What the fuck are we waiting for?"

As the night drew on, Six found herself brimming with a happiness she hadn't felt in a long time. _These are my friends. This is my family, my real family, not some dead people's names hissed by an enemy. They're all I really need._ And suddenly, she found that she had an answer to her question back in the woods. What the fuck was wrong with him; what the fuck was wrong with all of them.

_Orphans, lost souls, all of us. The abandoned children, the wanderers of the wasteland. Me and Arcade and Veronica lost our parents to the wars. Cass's dad left her. Boone lost his wife and child; Raul lost his whole family. Hell, Marcus and all the other legionaries lost everything when their tribes were conquered. We're all scarred and lonely, looking for comfort anywhere we can find it. Some of us make our own families. Some of us find a cause to champion. Some of us drown ourselves in drinks and chems. And some of us take our anger and use it to hurt others. Nothing ever stops the cycle. The Enclave fights the Brotherhood, who fights the NCR, who fights the Legion, and no one wins in the end._

Rosalind Goodwin – she hadn't forgotten the name – had been murdered in the desert, shot in the head and buried in an unmarked grave in a hilltop cemetery. What rose from that grave was a different person altogether. Maybe not a better person, but a different one. The Courier had a hell of a life, but that one had ended too. Her bones were on a cross in Vegas, her heart crushed beneath the radioactive rubble in Shady Sands. In the Courier's place was a new woman, scarred inside and out, but hopefully older and wiser than the angry wraith who'd burned her way through the Mojave and California on a trail of rage and revenge before flaming out in a nuclear explosion. Six wondered what sort of life her third incarnation would lead. No matter what, she had the feeling it was going to be a hell of an adventure.


	24. I'm Going Down By The River Where It's Warm And Green

Six and her friends had found the city that Veronica had told them about. But they'd found more than that. They'd found their home.

Their brief detour to Utah had not gone well. They'd known, at some base level, what had happened the moment they arrived on the outskirts of Zion and found Daniel's head on a spike.

"This does not look promising," Arcade said.

"No, it doesn't," said Six. She rooted through her bag and pulled out a few Stealth Boys and her trusty pistol. "You guys go a mile or so down the road and wait. I'm going to figure this out."

Arcade and Cass had put up token protests, but Six had simply walked away from the caravan they were traveling on. Cass had called in a favor and gotten them a large, comfortable wagon for their journey, and yet another set of forged identification papers. Surprisingly, they'd found themselves getting harassed a lot less in Legion territory than they ever did when trying to pass as traders in the NCR. Six could see why the caravans had preferred to deal with them. There were no raiders, no drug fiends, very little interference from wildlife. Half the Legion guards they ran into didn't even bother to check their paperwork, and the other half just gave it a cursory glance before waving them through.

Six popped her first Stealth Boy as she saw a group of people in the distance. She knew she should have turned around the moment she recognized the familiar patchwork armor, but instead she continued on towards the Dead Horses encampment. Graham was the first person she recognized. His signature vest and shirt were the only reason; his face was no longer covered by bandages, although even from a distance she could see the scars that remained. As she ducked behind a boulder, just in case her stealth field failed, and pulled out her binoculars, he took out a Super Stimpak and injected it into his arm. _That explains that._

It wasn't long before she saw Alerio and Vulpes approach the former legate and sit down at a rickety card table. Six wished she had been surprised, but Vulpes's words from Shady Sands had been echoing in her head all the way through the canyon. _I'd have him back as Legate in a second._ It made sense, it really did. If you were trying to rebuild an army, inviting one of its former leaders back into the fold was a good way to start. They chatted and laughed at the table, clearly formulating some sort of strategy judging by the way Graham seemed to be drawing a map in the air with his hands, pointing this way and that for troop movements. Apparently, all was forgiven. She found herself becoming increasingly irritated by their casual manner, and unreasonably pissed off that Vulpes seemed to be wearing modified combat armor instead of the uncomfortable garb favored by the last Caesar. _You wanted the position, jackass. You should at least have to wear that stupid heavy bear cape while you're running around the desert._

She had seen what she'd come to see. For a moment, Six wished she had a sniper rifle instead of just a shoddy pistol that was wildly inaccurate at any distance. Her trigger finger itched. It took every ounce of her self-control to use another Stealth Boy, turn around and walk away. More than anything else, she was disappointed in Graham, and embarrassed that she had once considered him a better man than this.

As Six approached the small canyon where her friends waited for her, she kicked a spare can down the road, sending it spinning off into the distance when her frustration grew and broke. "Fucking fucker fuckheads," she snarled under her breath, shooting a glare back over her shoulder as the last Stealth Boy wore off and the caravan appeared ahead of her.

"So what happened?" Veronica asked as Six climbed in the back, clearly sulking.

"Just me being a naive, trusting idiot and getting played by psychopaths again," Six replied.

"Is Graham dead?" Arcade asked.

"I wish," she spat, seeing Arcade's eyes widen, then narrow in understanding. "You were right. This was a mistake. People like that don't change." She pulled out a battered map from her pocket. They'd stopped in the Divide on their way so she could thank Ulysses, and when she mentioned the city to the east, he'd somehow managed to map them out a route to get there. Being a courier had its perks.

The worst part of their trip was crossing through Texas, a scorching wasteland that seemed to go on forever. It was divided into a hundred little fiefdoms, each ruled by the local brahmin baron or captain of industry or former military man, with everyone else working like serfs for a handful of caps, most of which they had to pay back in rent. Six didn't know it at the time, but a few years later, most of the wealthy landowners would happily assimilate into the Legion when the opportunity arose. _"I'm not fucking surprised,"_ she would tell Cass then. _"They were already slavers. Now they just use whips instead of debts."_

The deserts and plains faded into woods, then jungle. For a few days, Six and Veronica had become convinced that Ulysses had made them a fake map to lead them into their deaths in a swamp, the road was so overgrown and dense. The wildlife they'd encountered had reinforced this belief. The first time Veronica came back from a food gathering expedition pale and shaking, muttering something about a swamp dragon, they were worried about her sanity. But when they saw two enormous lizards fighting over a night stalker corpse, Six realized that the Brotherhood scribe had been telling the truth. Thankfully, their thick hide didn't make them immune to bullets, and they were pretty tasty when cooked over a campfire. Still, it was oppressively humid, and Six was becoming tired of scraping mud off the inside of her boots and being attacked by enormous mutated mosquitoes. She worried that they'd made another mistake coming here. But then they'd found the river that Ulysses said would lead them to the city, and in a few days, they had discovered paradise.

The city now called Nola had taken the apocalypse in stride. They'd already been destroyed by nature several times, so what more could a few bombs do? People said that it was the hand of Carrefour himself that protected the city from a direct strike during the Great War, saved by its own wickedness. The abandoned areas of the city had become overgrown, leafy obstacle courses, vines coiling around buildings, beautiful in the moonlight. Cass had been disappointed to discover that the rumors of drinking all day and dancing all night were mostly confined to a few weeks a year. But there was always something going on. Six lost count of the nights she'd made the walk from the creaky old house they'd taken for their own down to the Rue Bourbon with her friends, listening to the music that always seemed to be playing at someone's house, enjoying the sickly sweet smell of flowers and the river that permeated the air.

The residents of the city were friendly, kind and welcoming to outsiders, although Six had to get used to being considered a 'tribal', since she was born outside the city. Here, at least, 'tribal' didn't equate to less. The culture was remarkably egalitarian, and the city managed to survive with little formal government to speak of. Something about the jungle that surrounded the city discouraged invaders.

Six and her friends successfully brushed off questions about their strange accents and mysterious past for a few months. But then a slow but steady stream of refugees from the NCR began to trickle in, and more than one recognized the famous, and then infamous, Courier Six. She found herself telling her story, at first to convince the new arrivals that she wasn't a terrorist mastermind, then to her friends and neighbors, who had heard little to nothing about any of the events in the West. But as it turned out, they were more than a little familiar with being attacked by a society of slavers. After all, Nola had its own enemy to the east.

The Confederacy was much smaller and less deadly than the Legion. They were barely organized, just a gang of thugs who'd decided they wanted to found a country to cloak their criminal activities in a veil of legitimacy, and glommed on to the traditions of a dead nation to do so. But they still managed to send raiding parties into Nola on a regular basis. When one of their neighbors lost her son and his family to the slavers, Veronica organized a large town meeting, where they decided it was time to take action. No government was a great idea up until the time when you suddenly needed one.

Veronica and Arcade contacted the Brotherhood of Steel and the Followers, respectively. The Followers could do little but send a few doctors and supplies, but the Brotherhood (who, Six had learned, had their own city far up the coast) jumped at the opportunity to wipe out the irritant to the south. As it turned out, all the countries and city-states of the southern coast had some sort of courteous diplomatic relationship with each other, cemented through regular meetings and alliances, and the Confederacy had thrown a wrench into their orderly neighborhood. The Brotherhood sent armor, weapons, and one of their head paladins, a woman named Jackson with a dry sense of humor and a well-kept Afro. Jackson made it clear that she was not popular in the Brotherhood; she was an outsider who had become a reluctant hero through a chain of unfortunate events that strongly reminded Six of her own journey to fame. She'd performed some sort of enormous service to the Brotherhood, but now they weren't quite sure what to do with her, so farming her out to help lead Nola against the Confederacy was a good way to quietly get her out of the Capitol for good. Plus, the Confederacy had an unhealthy dislike for people with dark skin, so sending her was an extra 'fuck you' to them.

The next time the Confederacy sent a raiding party from the east, they were sent back in pieces. It was a nasty trick Six had picked up from the Legion, and led to a number of small skirmishes that eventually turned into all-out war. The Nola militia, led by Jackson, had been surprisingly effective at fighting. Cass had turned her hatred of slavery into a talent for leadership and rose to be one of Jackson's top lieutenants over the course of the year-long war, while Six's experiences with the Avengers cemented her place as the head of intelligence. Cities further up the river, who were also being picked clean by the slavers, had offered an alliance with Nola, and then a merger, and then they'd somehow become a country with an army, without even thinking about it. Red Stick was the first to join, then a handful of small rural communities, and finally Memphis, the other prize city on the river and the new capital of their northern district, a counterpart to Nola in the south. _Is this how empires get started?_ Six thought. _By accident?_

The day they'd wiped out the Confederacy for good was one of the best days of Six's life, second only to the one where she watched Shady Sands burn. And this time, there were no nasty little surprises to ruin things, just the savage pleasure of destroying something evil. She wondered what sort of person that made her, that the best days of her life all involved killing lots of people.

"What do you think happens when we die?" Six asked contemplatively. When Cass, Six and Jackson had returned from the battle, Veronica and Arcade had surprised them with a few bottles of absinthe, which they'd proceeded to polish off in a secluded graveyard. Celebrating a military victory by getting drunk in an above-ground cemetery was probably not the most dignified option, but thankfully, no one in the city seemed to expect them to act like professionals.

"You get, like, worms and stuff, and people's faces rot off and they turn all green and then it's just bones," said Veronica dreamily. She was lying next to Jackson in the grass, close enough that Six could make out their hands barely touching. But touching nonetheless. Six made a mental note to have a talk with Veronica. "Wait, how don't you know that? You've killed like eleventy billion bad dudes."

"I … think she means, uh, metaphysically," Arcade said. "Like your soul. What happens to it."

"Yeah, yeah," Six said. "Do we go to heaven like the Mormons said if we're good? And how bad do you have to be to go to hell?"

"Six, are you getting all self-pitying again?" Cass was far less drunk than the others. Considering what sort of cocktails she used to drown herself in back in the Mojave, a few shots of absinthe might as well have been milk. "Is this another 'I nuked two cities, does that make me evil' whining session?"

"You nuked two cities?" Jackson asked, raising her eyebrows. "Why'd you do it?"

"They deserved it," Arcade said fervently. He tried to push himself up off of the grave he had been lying on top of, presumably to make a grand gesture, but stumbled back into the marble. "They deserved worse than that."

"Yeah, maybe," Six conceded. "But I mostly did it because I wanted revenge. And because they were fucking slavers and needed to die."

"There are worse reasons," said Jackson, twirling a flower in her fingers. "I nuked a city, once. I did it for an apartment. It wasn't even a particularly nice apartment, but I was nineteen. It made sense at the time." She caught their horrified stares. "Well, I feel bad about it now, of course."

"See, Six?" Veronica slurred, lacing her fingers between Jackson's and raising their hands in the air. "You're not going to hell. Not without all of us."

**Five Years After Shady Sands  
**

Hell had come to them, instead.

Commander Six, intelligence chief of the Delta Republic, paced back and forth in front of the bound legionary scout. They had caught him west of Nachitoches, completely lost and halfway starved in the forest. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, just like the other scouts they'd found. Six got the feeling that 'go over the river and scout the Delta' was the new Legion equivalent of sending a recruit on a snipe hunt. The others had killed themselves before capture, as usual, but Cass's troops had gotten this one's hands behind his back before he could pop a cyanide capsule into his mouth.

"Do you know why you're here, kid?" Six asked, idly sketching something on an envelope.

"Are you planning to torture me?" he asked. "I will never betray the Legion to a prof-"

"Ah, ah," interrupted Six. "Careful." When they'd first dragged him into her tent, before she removed his gag, she'd told him there were a few words she did not want to hear. Profligate had definitely been on that list, along with degenerate and whore. The new Legion may have been smarter, faster, able to get territory with words and deceit just as easily as with brute force, but they still hadn't updated their slang terms for outsiders. "And we don't torture, unlike your folks. You're here because I need you to go back with a message for your leaders."

She'd written it out longhand. It had even been borderline polite, at least until Cass had gotten her hands on it. The envelope now read, "To ~~Caesar Inculta~~ FUCKHEAD AND FRIENDS from ~~Commander~~ Six ~~of the Delta Republic~~ AND CASS HI ASSHOLES." Cass may have turned into a hell of a soldier, but diplomacy was not her strong suit. Thankfully, Six had been able to wrestle the envelope away from her friend before she damaged the contents. The waterproof paper and envelope had been hideously expensive, which is why she had to leave Cass's vandalized greeting. Of course, she was planning on adding her own touch.

"What makes you think I'd ever deliver such a vulgar missive?" the legionary hissed. "I'll drop it in the nearest swamp."

"Because they'll kill you for getting captured," Six said flatly. "But if you bring this back, you'll probably live. Your _master_ will want to see this." She held up the envelope, on which she'd drawn a crude red X surrounded by a mushroom cloud. She'd gotten the tattoo of the nuclear explosion on Cass's suggestion, to turn the awful scar into a reminder of her victory. She'd also gotten a deathclaw on her upper arm, but that was just for fun.

"Lord Caesar will not care what any dege- _outlander_ woman has to say."

"Oh, good. You're learning new vocabulary. And normally you'd be right. But I'm an exception. Ever heard of the Courier?" Six saw the legionary's eyes widen slightly. "Right, that's me."

"The Courier is nothing but a story to scare recruits," the legionary said, but he sounded uncertain.

Six smiled. She rather liked the idea of becoming the Legion's new boogeyman, now that they couldn't use the Burned Man, for obvious reasons.

"No, I'm quite real," she said softly. "Feel free to tell your friends. But, more importantly, tell your Lord that he needs to stop sending _children_ over the river. The next scout I see is getting floated back over the Sabine without a head. And if we see more than one of you together, especially another goddamn assassination squad, that's going to be considered an invasion. He can stop sending those after Major Cassidy at any time, by the way, or at least tell them to quit announcing that they've been sent to kill her before they open fire."

Six continued, "Tell him that he can keep Texas. I never liked it anyway. And he can keep scheming and recruiting whoever else is dumb enough to join his empire voluntarily. But the moment we see your people on this side of the Sabine River, it's going to mean war. And if you've heard enough about me to think I'm a myth, then you know what happened the last time _that man_ decided to pick a fight with me. This is _my_ territory, _my_ people. If this isn't all just a new, twisted version of his personal vendetta, he'll be smart enough to go north instead. But if it is personal … well, tell him to stop being a fucking coward and come fight us himself. He can die in the woods, like he deserves."

The legionary shifted uncomfortably. "I … will deliver your message. Courier."

"See that you do," she said. "Now Major Cassidy's men are going to come back and take you to the commissary. You need food and rest, and a friend of mine will treat those armadillo bites. You'll be released over the river in a couple of days. I think your camp is just a few miles to the west of it, am I right? Make sure this gets into the right hands. Vale, scout." She couldn't resist adding that last part.

After Cass's troops had taken the scout away, Six walked out back and glanced across the river. She could just see the smoke from the Legion forward camp, if she squinted. She'd have to get back to Nola soon. Being in charge of intelligence meant that she couldn't always be the one running around in the woods. Someone had to do the paperwork, after all, and she needed to report to President Jackson in a few days about the status of their little stalemate at the border.

Somehow she knew that they wouldn't turn their attention to the north. When Vulpes was fixated on something, he usually got it, and he'd sworn that much to her the last time they'd met _._ He'd deny it and say it was about the territory, or the resources, or the fact that the Delta army was a legitimate threat to the Legion, if anyone ever called him out on it. But this was obviously, unabashedly, personal on his part, and that made him vulnerable. Then again, she'd sworn something to him too, and she certainly intended to honor _that_ vow. Six found herself hoping that he'd be foolish enough to take her bait. She remembered a line from a poem she'd read back in Vegas, so long ago. _The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have_ _promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone from Texas is offended by my description of your state, I would like you to know that I am not sorry in the slightest. There are 49 other states. Move to one of them. And don't say Austin is different. Everyone always says that. 
> 
> This story is finished. Our long national nightmare is over. Thanks for reading. No sequel is currently planned, but who knows what the future may hold?


End file.
